


as a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn

by chaoticcollectorchaos_me



Series: 26,000 days [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel 3490, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Captain America: The First Avenger, Contains original dialogues from the movie, Epistolary, F/M, Historical, I don't mean to bash him - i love him, M/M, Mutant!Natasha Stark, Obnoxious amounts of quotes, References to Alan Turing, Reincarnation, Romance, Tragedy, and literary references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:38:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticcollectorchaos_me/pseuds/chaoticcollectorchaos_me
Summary: Steve met the other half of his soul on a cold night in March under the bright fluorescent lights of the World Expo, lost her under the dim lights of the SSR’s wrecked headquarters two years later.He met her again on a warm May night, in Stuttgart, seventy years later.This was the story of how Steve loved, lost, and loved again.





	1. I couldn't utter my love when it counted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [samptra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samptra/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Remember Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/689189) by [samptra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samptra/pseuds/samptra). 



> I know I have another WIP I should be working on, but I'm a masochist and I like to have multiple WIPs in my catalog >.<
> 
> I've been thinking about this plot line for awhile actually. After reading "Remember Me" by Samptra, I started thinking about writing my own Reincarnation AU fic because personally I've always been fascinated in the concept of being reborn after death. 
> 
> I used Natasha aka the canon fem!Tony as Tony's previous incarnation, because it is canon that if Tony was a woman, she and Steve would have a love so strong that they averted the Civil War. I hope I did her character justice (and not make her out to be a Mary Sue), as we know nothing about her characterization other than the fact that she and Steve loved each other enough to get married. In their uniforms. 
> 
> Title from "Shrike" by Hozier, which was basically my soundtrack for this whole story. The lyrics describe Steve and Tony's relationships in every universe to a tee. 
> 
> Other than that, enjoy!

Steve Rogers never had any delusions that he would live a long life. Born at the end of the Great War and raised during the Depression with poor health, it was a miracle that he ever lived past eighteen. His survival was a great testament to his mother’s tenacity and her struggles as a single mother. And once she was gone, Bucky took on the mantle of keeping him alive, bailing him out of every single well-intention losing fight, giving Steve a portion of his paycheck when Steve needed some medicine, and kept his melancholy at bay after Ma’s death. Bucky and his Ma was responsible with keeping him alive  all through his childhood and part of his adolescence. And Steve loved them for it, they were the only family he had ever known and probably the only ones he would ever have. There would always be a part of his heart reserved in affection and reverence for them, for his family.

 

But there was a larger part of his heart reserved only for one person. The person who gave him a purpose in life, the person who gave him a reason to live. A reason that eclipsed his need to serve his country, to be a good citizen and to be useful to society. This person who filled all the blank spaces Steve didn’t know he had just by existing and being by Steve’s side. A person, who, for a lack of a better word, was the other half of Steve’s being.

 

In _Symposium_ , Plato wrote how humans used to be a being with two heads, four arms and four legs. Fearful of what humans wrought, the Gods split them apart, leaving humans with only one head, two arms, two legs and an emptiness born from being separated from the other half of their being, the other half of their souls. Ever since that day, humans were doomed to wander through life incomplete, continuously seeking that missing piece of themselves, not knowing whether they would ever truly be complete.

 

Steve met the other half of his soul on a cold night in March under the bright fluorescent lights of the World Expo, lost her under the dim lights of the SSR’s wrecked headquarters two years later.

 

He met her again on a warm May night, in Stuttgart, seventy years later.

 

This was the story of how Steve loved, lost, and loved again.

 

\--------

 

_New York City, April 1942_

 

Another day, another rejection from the Army. Steve heaved a sigh as he walked out dejectedly from the latest recruiting station he tried his luck in. Another 4F for the tally, this would make it his fifth rejection from the Army. When they said that the Army would take just about anyone for the war, they forgot to mention a big caveat that one must be in sound physical health to even be considered eligible to join.

 

Steve and his long list of illnesses would not be on the top of the list of eligible men to serve. They would probably point him in the other direction of the recruiting station, if they could. The latest recruitment sergeant even went so far as telling him he was saving his life. Why was it so hard just to enlist? All Steve ever wanted was to serve, there were men laying down their lives right at this very moment, in Europe and in the Pacific theaters, and here Steve was, somewhat able bodied and more than willing to answer the call of duty to serve his country. Yet for all his willingness to serve, what good would it be if nobody wanted to take him up on it?

 

Deciding to go watch a film to cheer himself up, Steve entered the theater with the express intention of forgetting today’s disappointment and kill some time until he had to meet up with Bucky later. Bucky had said earlier that he had some big news he wanted to share with Steve. Deep down, Steve knew what Bucky was about to share with him. His best friend had successfully enlisted in the Army, much to Steve’s consternation. He was equal parts proud and jealous of Bucky’s achievements. Proud because Bucky was following in his father’s legacy, and jealous because Steve wouldn’t be able to do the same, to carry on his own father’s legacy to serve and to fight alongside his brother.

 

Steve thought that what Bucky would tell him tonight would be that he had received his orders and that he would be leaving soon. Which would make everything even more perfect in the worst of ways. Steve would be left alone now after Bucky’s departure, truly and completely alone for the first time in his short life. Left alone to work on his posters for the WPA or collect scrap metal for the war effort like some pre-pubescent teen with nothing else to offer.  

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a jerk who was heckling the picture much to the discomfort of everybody else in attendance. And of course Steve, with his big mouth, couldn’t stop himself from reprimanding said jerk, especially after the lady that sat near him seemed to be surreptitiously wiping her tears away, clearly affected by what they were showing.

 

“Hey, you wanna shut up?”

 

When the guy stood up and stared him down, Steve knew he was in for another back alley beating. Ain’t no better way to end a day other than a back alley beating after all.

 

The man’s initial punch knocked Steve off his face and into the trash can located in the alley behind the movie theater. Steve scrambled for something to hold on to, something that would give him an edge in the fight, and decided to grab the lid and held it aloft like a shield.

 

“You just don’t know when to give up, do you?” the man sneered.

 

“I can do this all day.”

 

The man grabbed the trash can lid from him and tossed it to the side before punching Steve square in the face. Steve fell down again. In the periphery he saw the man prepare to kick him while he was down, and before Steve could attempt to shield his rib cage from the kick, another harsh sound emanated from above him.

 

Bucky, resplendent in his brown uniform, was standing over Steve’s opponent who was slumped down on the ground. The man stood up again, his fist swinging at Bucky’s direction now, but Bucky caught it then twisted the man’s arm around so much so that he now faced the opposite direction from where his arm was pointing at. He groaned in pain until Bucky let go of him, giving him a kick for good measure.

 

“Why don’t you pick on somebody your own size?”

 

As the man hobbled out of the alley, Bucky turned back to Steve, panting and still splayed out on the ground. “Sometimes I think you liked getting punched.”

 

“I had him on the ropes.” Steve said petulantly, wiping the faint blood smear on the side of his lips.

 

“Sure looks like you did.” Bucky relented. On the ground he spotted the most recent enlistment rejection from the Army. Steve’s bullheadedness was legendary. It was probably for the right reasons, but Steve never seemed to develop any sense of self-preservation even as he matured and became an adult.

 

“How many times is this?” Bucky bent down to pick up the paper. “Oh, you’re from Paramus now? You know it’s illegal to lie on the enlistment form. And seriously, Jersey?”

 

“You got your orders?” Steve chose to ignore Bucky’s comments and looked at Bucky from head to toe. His friend was wearing the neatly pressed brown uniform of the Army complete with the beret tilted at a jaunty angle on his head. Bucky looked every inch the soldier that the Army wanted and needed.

 

“The one-o-seventh. Sergeant James Barnes. Shipping out for England first thing tomorrow..”

 

Steve nodded. The 107th. Bucky’s dad was also in the 107th during the Great War. Seeing him like this reinforced just how much Steve would never be able to realize his own goals and dreams. “I should be going.”

 

“Come on, man. My last night! Gotta get you cleaned up.” Bucky put his arms around Steve’s shoulder, walking him out of the alley.

 

“What? Why? Where are we going?” Steve asked.

 

“The future.” Bucky said cryptically, handing him an ad he tore off from a newspaper about the World Expo at Coney Island.

 

\--------

 

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Bucky said to him as they walked from the train station to the Expo ground, “you’re about to be the last eligible man in New York. You know, there’s three and a half million women here.”

 

“Well, I’d settle for just one.” Steve said dejectedly. His luck with the ladies, or the gents for that matter, was none to say the least. So much for luck o’ the Irish.

 

“Good thing I took care of that.” Bucky grinned at him, then he raised his hand in a wave. Up in the distance, two women were standing by the balustrade leading to the crowded Expo area and one of them waved back at Bucky.

 

“Hey, Bucky!” she yelled. Steve’s eyes widened in alarm and dread. Inwardly he groaned at the prospect of another “double date” that would end with both women ignoring him and vying for Bucky’s attention all night long.

 

“What did you tell her about me?”

 

“Only the good stuff.”

 

Great, Steve sighed deeply. Here goes nothing.

 

There was music and an abundance of lights. The whole atmosphere was designed to showcase the inventions that surrounded the fair goers. For awhile it was easy to forget that there was a war raging on the other side of the Atlantic. Bucky and his dates started to weave their way among the throngs of people standing at the Stark Industries booth, eagerly awaiting the show that was advertised to start in ten minutes.

 

“Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Howard Stark!”

 

Howard Stark, debonair industrialist, appeared on the stage and shamelessly kissed one of the stage girls before launching into a spiel about how automobiles would one day cease to touch the ground. He turned on the car, which to his credit, levitated above the ground for several seconds before the engine short circuited and the car fell back on the ground.

 

“Holy cow.” Steve heard Bucky’s whispered amazement. Steve himself was in awe. He was always fascinated by science and math and how it would always find a way to improve the world around him. Steve has always owed his life to science since the medicine that kept him alive wouldn’t have existed without the advent of scientific enlightenment. It’s also probably why he was always attracted to smart people. He didn’t spend his art school days loitering around Columbia just because they had better coffee.

 

“I did say a few years, didn’t I?” Stark addressed the audience, laughing deprecatingly.

 

“I keep telling him that if only he reduces the reverberations on the flight stabilizer, he’d be able to maintain the car in flight longer.” A beautiful, lilting voice chimed in from the space next to Steve. And when he turned around to look at the person whose voice it belonged to, he came face to face with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life. She was standing next to him, clothed in a brown leather jacket and black pants, hair tied up in a high ponytail. She wore a necklace made of brown leather, an amber pendant rested low between the valley of her breasts. Her eyes were bright and brown, her cheekbones were sharp and high and soft lips completed the her whole figure.

 

Steve’s fingers had never itched so badly for a paper and charcoal than they did right at this moment.

 

“Pardon?” was the only thing that came out of his mouth after probably making the beautiful dame uncomfortable with his staring. But she just smiled indulgently and directed his attention back to the car on the stage.

 

“The flight stabilizer on the car. He didn’t take into account the additional weight of the car and how much more energy the stabilizer would need to expend to held the car aloft. And since there’s only a finite source of energy in the first place, all of that energy that could be used to fly are now redirected to make sure the car would be stable when floating. The end result was what you and everybody here just saw.”

 

“Oh, wow. That’s amazing. You know a lot about machines!” Smart _and_ beautiful. Steve never had a chance.

 

“Not bad for a woman, huh?” she shrugged, her smile mischievous.

 

“Not bad for anyone at all. How is it that you know so much then?” Steve asked again, eager to keep conversing with this woman.

 

“I like to read.” she chuckled, “it’s a good way to spend the time.” Her lips pursed in a smile as if her words held a different hidden meaning.

 

“I know what you mean. I was sick a lot as a kid, spent a lot of my time laid up in bed. Books were the only way I could keep myself from being stir crazy about being bedridden.”

 

She laughed again, “It seems you’ve successfully conquered your illness. And what great fortune for me because that means I have a chance of making your acquaintance.”

 

Steve stopped short at that. Was she flirting with him? Nobody, in his short 24 years of his life, ever made the first move. Most women never even looked in his direction, nobody seemed to be eager to line up for a dance with a man they could step on.

 

“Yeah, I-- I’m healthier now. Well, not healthy _per se_ , I still have asthma and allergies, sometimes if it gets really cold emphysema kicks in, but-- you know what, you don’t want to hear about this. I’m Steve Rogers. And you are?” Steve hastily finished shoving his hand in front of him for the woman to shake, mortified at himself for making such a fool of himself in front of this goddess of a woman.

 

She didn’t seem to mind his ramblings, though. Her bell-like laughter ringing in his ear, “Natasha Stark. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Steve Rogers.”

 

Her hands felt calloused in Steve’s own hand, and as he took her hand in his it felt surprisingly warm, not at all like how he imagined a woman’s hand would feel like. But Natasha’s knowledge of machinery and her boyish attire most likely meant that she spent her days tinkering with machines, instead of in lavish society parties.

 

“Stark? Any relation to --” Steve gestured towards the empty stage at the Stark booth.

 

“He’s my cousin.” Natasha clarified, “to be precise, he’s my fifth cousin, once removed.”  

 

“Oh, that’s...far…”

 

“Yes, very much so.” Natasha, God such a beautiful name for a beautiful woman, said again. “What brings you to the Expo, Steve?”

 

“My good friend, Bucky.” Steve looked around for Bucky and his dates only to found that they were gone from his vicinity. In his fascination of Natasha, he completely disregarded Bucky and his plan for a double date. “It’s his last night in town. He’s shipping out to England tomorrow.”

 

“Oh,” Natasha nodded in understanding, “I’m sorry. It seems I’ve unknowingly separated you from him.”

 

“No, no, don’t worry about it. I can always find him again later.” Steve brushed off Natasha’s concern, determined to keep them talking for as long as possible, “what about you? Are you here for your cousin?”

 

“Yes. To tell him “I told you so” repeatedly and annoyingly after the inevitable event of his flying car demonstration crashing and burning to the ground.”

 

“You’re not vindictive at all, Ms. Stark,” Steve told her.

 

“I know not what you speak of, Mr. Rogers.” Natasha retorted back, a petulant, cheeky smile on her lips.

 

They walked as they talked and when Steve realized again, they were standing in front of an Army recruiting station. Steve looked up despondently at the sign. Five rejections he had so far. Maybe sixth time would be the charm. The rumpled up rejection letter still reside in his jacket pocket reminding him of his failures. Looking at the beautiful woman in front of him, who somehow gave him a second glance, gave him a time of the day to talk to her, to make her laugh, Steve felt compelled to try once again.

 

Natasha seemed to take his silence as contemplation, “Thinking of enlisting?”

 

“Yeah. I--” Steve debated, would disclosing his enlistment rejections make Natasha think less of him? “I’ve tried. Five times. All 4Fs.”

 

Natasha winced in sympathy, “Perhaps sixth time would be the charm for you, Steve. It’s a fair after all. Why not try your luck?”

 

Was she somehow a mind reader? She had pluck the thought right out of his head.

 

“I was thinking the same thing.” Steve responded to her. She was a couple inches taller than he was, which seemed to be the case with everyone he encountered. Steve always felt a sense of self-consciousness every time he had to look up to talk to someone. Yet somehow, it didn’t feel that way with Natasha. It felt right.

 

Natasha smiled again, “ _I_ _f everyone fought for their own convictions there would be no war_. Good luck, Steve. Perhaps I’ll see you around?” she offered her hand out for Steve to shake. Steve readily took it, that warm sensation from before suffusing him again.

 

“Did you just quote _War and Peace_ at me?”

 

Natasha winked, “It’s appropriate for the occasion, don’t you think? It was nice meeting you, Steve. Good luck with your sixth try.”

 

“Good bye, Natasha. I hope we’ll see each other again.”

 

Natasha nodded at him as she turned to leave. Steve stayed rooted to his spot, watching her leave. With any luck, he would finally be able to join up, serve and come back home in one piece. And if he hasn’t tempted fate enough, maybe seek out Natasha and ask her permission to court her.

 

“Steve! There you are! Come on!  You’re kind of missing the point of a double date. We’re taking the girls dancing.” it seems like Bucky and the girls finally found him, standing by himself in front of the recruitment center, contemplating a life that he wasn’t sure would happen.

 

“You go ahead. I’ll catch up with you.” Steve answered listlessly.

 

“You’re really gonna do this again?”

 

Steve shrugged, and using Natasha’s words replied to Bucky, “Well, it’s a fair. I’m gonna try my luck.”

 

“As who? Steve from Ohio?” Bucky scowled, “They’ll catch you. Or worse, they’ll actually take you.”

 

“Look, I know you don’t think I can do this.” Steve said solemnly, willing Bucky to understand his point of view. Why was it so hard to convince Bucky, when Natasha understood so easily?

 

“This isn’t a back alley, Steve. It’s war!”

 

“I know it’s a war. You don’t have to tell me.”

 

“Why are you so keen to fight? There are so many important jobs.” Bucky tried to convince him again.

 

“What am I gonna do? Collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?”

 

“Yes! Why not!”

 

“Bucky, come on! There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.”

 

Bucky gave him a look that he secretly dubbed the “calling you out on your bullshit” look, “Right. Cause you got nothing to prove.”

 

Steve looked away from him, because what else could he say. He did have something to prove, but that’s only a small part of it. A larger part was his need to serve, his desire to be useful for his country, his fellow men. He has no energy to debate Bucky again.

 

Bucky finally relented when the girls started bugging him about going dancing. He left with one last hug to Steve. Steve hugged back with as much fervor, hoping against all hope that this wouldn’t be the last time he saw his brother again.

 

“Don’t win the war till I get there!” he said in parting, Bucky already corralling the girls and muttering something about their song playing.

 

As he turned back around to enter the recruitment station, resolute and steadfast, he belatedly noticed that his aching and scuffed up knuckles from the alley fight was no longer hurting.

 

Odd.


	2. And I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted

_ Camp Lehigh, New Jersey _

 

It worked. Oh my God, it actually worked. Steve had to look at his enlistment papers, at least once a day, to convince himself that none of this was a dream. He was actually here, at Camp Lehigh, in New Jersey (unfortunate), for basic training. 

 

Dr. Erskine told him all he was giving Steve was a chance. But a chance was all Steve needed to prove himself, to show the army that he was more than just the skinny guy who didn’t know when to quit. To show them that he had the determination, the self-discipline, and the work ethic to make it through basic and to become a good soldier. 

 

There was talk among his fellow candidates that what they were training for wasn’t just for regular boot camp variety training. There were rumors going around that what they were doing at Camp Lehigh was something more specific, something more specialized that involved the Strategic Scientific Research. Steve had been hearing a lot about this supposedly discreet branch of the Allied war effort.

 

In essence, the United States military have recruited scientists and engineers from across the country, and even going so far as to offering asylum to bright scientists and engineers from Axis countries, all to give the US military that extra edge to win against the Axis power. In the UK, Bletchley Park have started the project of decoding the Enigma, while in the US, the Strategic Scientific Research was focusing its efforts on something called Project Rebirth. They were told that at the end of their training, one among them would be chosen to be part of Project Rebirth. Nobody knew what that would entail, but as it was something highly classified it seemed poised to be something dangerous or something extremely rewarding. 

 

But for now, Steve focused himself in going through basic training and trying not to die before the end of the week. Because basic training was brutal. 

 

“Recruits, attention!” a sharp, commanding voice snapped them all back to line. A woman officer, in a olive green SSR uniform, strode confidently in front of them, “Gentlemen, I’m Agent Carter. I supervise all operations for this division.” She looked them up and down the line. She seemed unimpressed with Steve and her fellow recruits to say the least. 

 

“What’s with the accent, Queen Victoria? Thought I was signing up for the U.S. Army.” Gilmore Hodge, leading contender for Project Rebirth and all around bully and misogynist, spoke up. Steve repressed a great sigh at Hodge’s blatant disrespect to someone who was clearly their superior officer, regardless of her gender. 

 

“What’s your name, soldier?” Agent Carter asked him. 

 

“Gilmore Hodge, your Majesty.” Hodge answered, his tone condescending. 

 

“Step forward, Hodge. Put your right foot forward.” 

 

“Mmm… We gonna wrassle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Steve bit his lip to prevent the groan of disgust that threatened to escape his mouth at Hodge’s words. Just as he was about to speak up on Agent Carter’s behalf, the woman stepped back and with a mean right hook punch Hodge in the face so hard that the big man fell like a sack of flour on the ground. 

 

A bell-like laughter, one he thought he would never hear again, float to his ears and he looked up to see Natasha just yards away from where he was standing, having just drove in with an elderly man who was wearing the same uniform as Agent Carter. 

 

Natasha was sitting in the driver’s seat, evidently she had been the one who drove the Colonel to the training ground. She wore a jumpsuit, just like all the other mechanics on the base did, though she stripped off the top part to tie the sleeves around her trim waist, exposing the black tank top she wore underneath and the amber pendant around her neck. She had oil smudges on her hands and upper arm. Her ponytail was immaculately done up as the last time Steve saw her. In short, she looked amazing. And Steve couldn’t believe his luck that she was there with him.  

 

“Agent Carter, I see you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” the man said. Then to Hodge who was still sprawled on the ground he said, “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention 'til somebody comes tells you what to do.” 

 

Natasha disembarked from the car and walked towards the line of recruits. She stood next to Agent Carter observing the recruits, though Steve caught her subtly putting up her fist at waist level for Agent Carter to surreptitiously bump with her own. Steve hid a smile at the clear sign of friendship these two women seemed to have. 

 

“Yes, Sir.” 

 

The man, Colonel Phillips, addressed them, “General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men…” his gaze trailed off to Steve, “And because they’re gonna get better. Much better. The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world.”

 

“Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man..” the colonel finished his speech. “Agent Carter, Miss Stark and myself will supervise your training. At the end of this month we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super-soldiers.”

 

At the mention of Natasha’s name, Steve surreptitiously glanced at her, managing to catch her eyes and Natasha offered him a small smile and a slight nod of the head. 

 

Natasha was here. What were the chances of them meeting again after their first meeting at the Expo? Was Natasha’s purpose at the Expo to scout for the SSR? It would seem like the most logical explanation for their “chance” encounter. Steve fervently wished for the chance to talk to her again. 

 

But basic training demanded his attention. From sunrise to sunset, he was continuously in the field, marching or running with his pack filled with about eighty pounds worth of stuff or doing other forms of endurance training. By the time they stopped to break for the day and they were rushed to the barracks for lights out, Steve would collapse on his cot, body aching and too tired to think about anything else than how exhausted he was and how good the mattress felt on his aching body. 

 

Sometimes he would see Natasha at the mess hall for meal times. She would be sitting with Agent Carter (Peggy). Most times, Peggy would be eating while Natasha would have her head bent in concentration writing something in a brown leather bound journal she carried with her everywhere, food forgotten in her focus. Peggy would sometimes nudge the plateful of food at her direction in attempt to remind her to eat, which then Natasha would pick up the spoon or fork and spoon some food into her mouth, then promptly forgot about her food again. 

 

Many, many times Steve was tempted to walk over to her and grab her spoon and just started feeding her himself. He wasn’t sure how Natasha would take that gesture though. 

 

Two weeks after the start of the training, Steve finally got his chance to talk to her again. That night he was sick and tired of the ribbing and mocking from his fellow trainees. He stepped outside to get some time for himself and gather his thoughts. At quiet times like these, his self-doubt started rearing its ugly head again. Steve sighed, looking up at the sky, wondering where Bucky was right now and if he had to go through what Steve was going through right now. Bucky would know what to say to cheer him up or make him laugh. 

 

“Planning to sneak out off base?” 

 

Steve jerked at the question, startled at the unexpected voice addressing him. Turning around, he saw Natasha lounging on the bench, her ever present journal by her side. 

 

“Hi, Steve.” she greeted him. 

 

“Natasha, hi. How-- how are you?” Ugh, smooth Rogers. Two seconds in her presence and you’re tongue tied like a little boy. 

 

“Not too shabby. Can’t say the same about you, though. Duffy was rough today.” Steve winced at the reminder of what the sergeant put them through today. They had to crawl through mud, all the while avoiding the barbed wire strung up over the top of the mud. Hodge had kicked one of the posts holding up the wire and some of the wire fell on Steve’s face and hands. 

 

“Yeah. It is what is, though. Basic wasn’t supposed to be easy.” Steve shrugged deprecatingly. He sat down on the empty spot next to Natasha. In the moonlight, she looked ethereal. Her thick brown hair was loose, for once, curling at the ends. 

 

“You’re hurt,” she gestured at Steve’s scratched up hands, the ones who bore the brunt of the collapsed barbed wire. 

 

“Oh, it’s nothing a trip to medical wouldn’t fix. I’ll go early tomorrow to get them treated.” Steve told Natasha reassuringly. Somehow, Natasha looked unconvinced. She scooted closer and placed her hands over Steve’s wounded ones. The warmth he felt before whenever Natasha touched him spread through his hands. Steve looked up in alarm at the woman sitting next to him, her eyes were closed as if she was concentrating on something. When she finally opened her eyes and removed her hands from Steve’s, the small cuts and wounds on his hands were gone. Natasha had healed his wounds with a single touch. 

 

“All fixed.” She said, a soft smile on her lips. 

 

“It was you. That first day we met. My hands were scuffed from a fight, but after we shook hands it was gone. I thought it was all in my head. But it was you...you healed me.” 

 

Natasha nodded. The smile on her face was replaced with trepidation, “it’s just something I can do. You’re not going to tell anyone, are you?” 

 

“No, no.” Steve shook his head fervently, “your secret’s safe with me, Natasha.” 

 

“Great!” the smile returned much to Steve’s pleasure, “thank you, Steve!” 

 

“Of course. But how-- how did you do it? Have you always known that you can do this?” 

 

“I was born like this. I can heal other people, but not myself. I don’t know how I do it, I just do.” Natasha shrugged, she didn’t seem satisfied with her explanation either. 

 

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Natasha. It can’t be easy for you.”

 

“Surprisingly, things regarding you come very easily to me. I wonder why?” 

 

Steve smiled at her bashfully. Could it be Natasha felt the same as him? She felt that connection, too? The one that made it impossible to Steve to go five minutes without thinking about her. Was that what she meant? 

 

“Can I ask you a question? It’s something that I’ve been wondering ever since we met again at the beginning of basic.” Steve started. Natasha nodded her acquiescence, “were you at the Expo to scout for the SSR? Did we meet because you arranged it?” 

 

“Oh, God, no, Steve. I understand in hindsight that it must have looked that way. But I really was there to heckle Howard. He was so arrogant and cocky before the presentation, ignoring my advice. So I wanted to be there to witness his failure and to tell him ‘I told you so’ before he swanned off with one of his many girlfriends.” 

 

Steve laughed, “Such a supportive family member, you are.” Natasha’s competitiveness and self-righteous streak was amusing to say the least. 

 

“I do what I can,” she shrugged. 

 

Talking to her made Steve felt a little bit better about his current situation. Day after day, everything he set out to do seemed to end up with him falling flat on his face or mocked by his fellow recruits. What was his path after this? What would he be resigned to do if he didn’t become the candidate for Project Rebirth. 

 

“I don’t know what I’m doing here, Natasha. I thought I knew, but everyday I just seem to...fail. To disappoint everyone around me. I joined because I wanted to serve my country, but now I’m wondering if maybe they were right to reject me after all.” 

 

Natasha’s touch on his shoulder soothed him, as did her words, “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Steve. I’ve seen other men, men who are larger than you, who flake out not even two weeks into the training. You’re strong, Steve, more resilient and braver than any of the other men they ever chose for this project. Don’t give up just yet.” 

 

“Thanks, Natasha.” Steve tentatively reached up to place his hand on Natasha’s hand still on his shoulder. The brilliant smile on Natasha’s face indicated that his touch was more than welcomed. 

 

“I’m rooting for you, Steve,” Natasha squeezed his shoulder, and started to get up from her seat to leave, “Good night, soldier, you have an early day tomorrow.” 

 

“Good night.” and with one last glance to him, she walked away into the night. Steve felt a thousand times lighter, the heavy burden he carried when he walked out of the barracks before seemed to disappear. Natasha’s magical touch must have something to do with it, and the fact that Natasha entrusted that guarded part of herself, showed her healing ability to Steve, it meant the world to Steve. 

 

He fell asleep that night dreaming of warm smile and even warmer touches, soothing and healing the dark and deep recesses of his soul. 

 

\--------

 

It became sort of a ritual after that. Or rather, in Steve’s mind, a standing date for the two of them. Every night, Steve would go out to the balcony before lights out and Natasha with her trusty journal would be sitting there, waiting for him. They would talk until time ran out, exchanging stories and their deepest thought, meeting again the next day to continue their conversation. 

 

Steve found himself opening up to Natasha, in a way he never did with anyone else before. He told her things he never told a soul, like how hard it was for him to grow up in poverty. He told Natasha of the time he got hand me down shoes from the Church to wear. It was too big for him so he had to put crumpled up newspaper inside to make it fit better. 

 

Natasha, in turn, told him how she grew up. A child prodigy born from scientist parents, she was educated at an early age, how she was sent away for school by her parents and graduated university at 14 years old. She told him how cold his parents were. 

 

“I used to think that they didn’t want me. That I was a monkey wrench, thrown in to disrupt their lifelong plan for research. Because why else would they send me away?” 

 

Steve made a concerned noise and placed his hand on Natasha’s in a gesture of comfort. Natasha shot him an appreciative look, “At least that’s what I used to think.” 

 

“What made you change your mind?” 

 

Natasha sighed, “I haven’t been honest with you, Steve. I’m not who I say I am. My name is not Natasha Stark. My real name is Natasha Scholl, my parents were Nazi scientists. They were murdered by Johann Schmidt, the head of HYDRA, for refusing to allow HYDRA to use their research for warmongering purposes.” 

 

That was not what Steve expected. Natasha’s parents were Nazis. Or at least worked for them. How did Natasha fit in to this? How did she felt about all of it? 

 

“Do you think differently of me now?” 

 

“I-- this is a lot to take in. But no, Natasha. You’re still you.” Steve finally answered, Natasha shot him a grateful smile. 

 

“I am curious though. What do you think about all of this?” he gestured vaguely, hoping Natasha understood what he meant.

 

“What do I think about Jews, you mean?” Steve nodded, grateful that she caught on to his question. “I have no problems with Jews, Steve. I haven’t lived in Germany since I was 4 years old. I don’t share the same sentiments my fellow countrymen do, not their authoritarian tendencies nor their hatred of the others. My parents sent me to America for schooling and after I graduated I just never left. When Hitler rose power and all the insanity started to happen around him, nobody in Germany ever thought anything like this could happen. My parents, they kept telling me, there was nothing to worry about. Until I received a letter informing me they were dead. A car accident.” 

 

She paused then continued on, “At least that’s what they wanted me to believe. I went home to bury them, and as I was sorting through their stuff I found my father’s journal. He wrote in it that Johann Schmidt had paid him a visit. He was interested in the energy stabilizer he had designed. One that Schmidt thought would be able to harness the energy and the power of something called the Tesseract.”  

 

“The Tesseract?” Steve asked. 

 

“Schmidt might be a scientist. But he also believed in the existence of magic. He believed magic espoused science, which was beyond ridiculous.” Natasha rolled her eyes mockingly, “In Norse mythology, the Tesseract was a magical stone capable of bending the fabrics of space. It’s basically a great ball of unlimited, sustainable energy. He believed what my father worked on would enable him to house the Tesseract and harness its power, which would win him the war. My father refused to give him permission believing that absolute power in anyone’s hands corrupts. Two weeks after Schmidt’s visit, he and mother died in a ‘car accident’”. Natasha’s tone made it clear that she didn’t believe the accident was an accident. 

 

“I went to their lab at the Research institute to find every piece of equipment had been seized by the SS. No doubt, Schmidt and his head scientist, Arnim Zola, are hard at work trying to reconstruct what my father made. To be used in the event that they find the Tesseract.” 

 

Steve was speechless. The story of Natasha’s life was arduous beyond belief. What she went through, finding out the truth behind the death of her parents, must be harrowing. He squeezed Natasha’s hand, willing her to know that she wasn’t alone anymore. Steve would be there for her, always. Natasha turn her hand and slotted their hands together, holding on tighter. 

 

“When I realized what they’d done I left Germany, and went into hiding in the United States. I met Howard when we were both at MIT. He agreed to help me change my identity, to use his last name as my own and he expedited my asylum application on the condition that I join the SSR. I figured why not? This way I could help with the war effort and avenge my parents’ death in one fell swoop.” Natasha took a deep breath and looked at Steve, “What they seized from my father’s lab was an incomplete design. It is still capable to do what Schmidt wants it to do, just not as efficiently as he would like it to be. He will realize this sooner or later.” 

 

“What-- Natasha, what are you saying?” Steve asked in trepidation. 

 

“I’ve been working on perfecting my father’s design.” She looked down, gaze transfixed on the journal on her lap, “and I’m close. Once Schmidt realizes the folly of his own equipment, he will come for me. Of that I have no doubts.” 

 

“No.” Steve said fervently, “I won’t let that happen, Natasha.” he seized her shoulders, holding it tight in his grip as if Natasha would be spirited away from him if he loosen his grip, “No matter what happens to me by the end of this training, I would find a way to protect you. I promise you.” 

 

Natasha smiled softly at him, “Thank you, Steve. Nobody has ever been so kind to me before.” 

 

“I fell for you from the moment I saw you. I-- I would have done anything for you then, and I would do anything for you now. I know I don’t have much to offer you. I’m a poor orphan with nothing to my name but a sketchbook, a pencil and some graphite. But I promise you, Natasha, I will do anything in my power to keep you safe, to make you feel loved. You’re not alone in this world anymore, my darling.” 

 

“Oh, Steve,” Natasha reached for him and placed her hands, her warm healing hands, on Steve’s cheeks, “I feel the same way. I was never one to believe in fanciful things like love and affection. But then I saw you, so brave and resolute in your convictions to serve, to be the best man you can be despite what everyone else said. Steve, there was never a chance of me not falling for you.” 

 

Steve leaned forward, Natasha’s warm hands still held his face. Natasha leaned closer to him and the moment their lips touched, he felt complete for the first time in his life. His first kiss with Natasha, his first kiss with anyone for that matter, would be the only kiss that would matter for the rest of his life. She tasted sweet, like candy, and a hint of bitterness from the coffee Steve saw her drinking so often. Her lips were so soft against his, pliant and open for him to explore, to pour all the love he couldn’t put into words yet. To make her feel all of Steve’s love. 

 

When they parted, Steve was panting slightly. Natasha had a soft teasing smile on her face, and Steve braced himself for whatever cheeky quip she was bound to say next, “Took your breath away, did it?” 

 

Steve chuckled and pulled her closer to him and she rested her head on his shoulders, wrapping her arms around his skinny waist. Steve pressed a kiss on her mop of messy brown hair, reveling in the scent that was uniquely Natasha. 

 

“I love you,” he whispered to her. Natasha tightened her hold on him in response and tilted her head up at him, her smile mischievous. 

 

“ _ He shall never know I love him: and that, not because he's handsome, but because he's more myself than I am. _ ” 

 

Steve groaned at the quote, “Really, Natasha?  _ Wuthering Heights _ ?” Natasha’s laughter rang through the balcony, a balm to his weary soul. Once her laughter subsided, she looked at him again and said, “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, Steve. And I never will again.” 

 

They stay wrapped up in each other long after the call for lights out, nothing else in this world matter but the other’s presence. Natasha was his, and Steve was hers. These truths were self-evident from this point forward. 

 

\--------

  
  


“Pick up the pace, ladies! Let’s go! Double time! Come on! Faster! Faster! Move! Move!” Sergeant Duffy yelled at them as they jogged to the flagpole where he was yelling at the from. Steve wondered what the sergeant did to have such amazing lung capacity.  

 

“Squad, halt!” he screeched. Once Steve and his fellow recruits came to a stop in front of him he pointed at the flag atop the pole, “That flag means we’re only at the halfway point. First man to bring it to me gets a ride back with Agent Carter and Miss Stark. Move, move!” 

 

The other recruits immediately started to scramble to climb up the flagpole. “Come on! Get up there!” Steve stayed to the side, observing the situation, nothing that there was no hooks or hitches on the post that would enable anyone to climb up and grab the flag. There was only one solution. 

 

“If that’s all you got, this army’s in trouble! Get up there, Hodge! Come on! Get up there! Nobody’s got that flag in 17 years!” Sergeant Duffy bellowed again. Despite his encouragements nobody managed to climb up and grab the flag. “Fall back into line! Come on, fall in! Let’s go! Get back into formation! Rogers! I said fall in!” 

 

Natasha lifted her head up from where she was focused scribbling another mathematical formula on her journal as Sergeant Duffy mentioned Steve’s name. Steve seemed to be staying off to the side, off formation, contemplating the flagpole in front of him. In a stroke of genius, the man pulled the pin holding the pole aloft causing it to fall to the ground, where he easily grabbed the flag to give to Duffy. “Thank you, Sir.” Steve said politely then hopped on the jeep to sit next to Natasha. 

 

The other soldier looked on, dumbfounded at what just occurred. Natasha felt a huge dopey smile on her face, but she couldn’t seem to care one way or another about it. Steve nodded at her and Peggy as he situated himself on the back of the Jeep. Once Peggy’s back was turned, Natasha smiled at him, pleased at the slight blush that creeped on Steve’s cheeks. 

 

“Good job, soldier.” she whispered to him, nudging his booted feet with her own. The bashful smile and replying nudge Steve gave her in response became the highlight of her day. 

 

\--------

 

“Faster, ladies! Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul. Move it!” Peggy was putting the recruits through their calisthenics routine, making them do push ups. Natasha, off to the side of the field, with Erskine and Phillips, watched the recruits being through their paces and Steve, in particular, struggling to keep up. 

 

It was such a painful sight for Natasha to watch. Steve struggling just take a simple lungful of oxygen tore at her heart. Especially when she knew that Steve’s ailments were too much for her to heal by herself. Healing all of Steve’s illnesses would definitely drain her of her energy, if not outright kill her, and it would most likely only be a temporary fix. Soon, though, Steve wouldn’t feel pain any longer. He would be healthy. He would be strong. He would the pinnacle of physical perfection. Erskine’s formula would see to that.  

 

“You’re not really thinking about picking Rogers, are you?” Phillips asked Dr. Erskine. 

 

“I am more than just thinking about it. He is the clear choice.” 

 

“When you brought a ninety-pound asthmatic onto my army base, I let it slide. I thought, what the hell? Maybe he’ll be useful to you, like a gerbil.” Natasha shot the older man a dirty look at the gerbil comment. If anyone was a gerbil, it was any of the recruits other than her Steve who only knew what to do as they were told, obligingly and unquestioningly obeying orders without thinking what was asked of them, unlike Steve who clearly had amazing strategic and planning skills. Steve who was clearly the perfect and only candidate to be the first super soldier. “I never thought you’d pick him.” 

 

Phillips continued, “You stick a needle in that kids arm and it’s gonna go right through him.” Peggy was now making them do jumping jacks, “Look at that. He’s making me cry.” 

 

Erskine sighed at Phillips’ clear disapproval of his and Natasha’s choice, “I am looking for qualities beyond the physical.” 

 

“Do you know how long it took to set up this project? All the groveling I had to do in front of Senator What’s-His-Name’s committees?” 

 

“Yes, I know. I am well aware of your efforts.” 

 

“Then throw me a bone. Hodge passed every test we gave him. He’s big, he’s fast, he obeys orders. He’s a soldier.” Phillips pointed at Hodge, the big man who had no trouble bullying and assaulting men in his own company. Natasha sneered at the thought of giving the serum to someone like Hodge. Honestly, they didn’t need another Johann Schmidt. 

 

“He’s a bully.” Erskine simply said. 

 

“You don’t win wars with niceness, doctor. You win war with guts.” 

 

“Then test them.” Natasha chimed in. She walked over to the two men, grabbed a grenade and effortlessly disarmed it. “Let’s see which one of them has more guts. The ninety-pound asthmatic, or the big, fast, soldier?” Natasha offered the dummy grenade to Phillips, eyebrow raised in challenge at the Army colonel. 

 

Phillips took the grenade from her and tossed it to the middle of the recruits’ training ground, “Grenade!” 

 

The recruits made a mad dash, scrambling to get away from the grenade tossed in their midst. All but one that was. Steve jumped on top of the grenade, covering it with his body, shouting at other people to get back, to stay away. 

 

Natasha let out a gust of breath she didn’t realize she was holding back as she waited for Steve’s reaction. She was betting on Steve to be the self-sacrificing man she came to knew him as, and this display of courage seemed to seal the deal in Phillips’ mind. The man still scowled at Steve’s skinny body, on the ground, covering a dummy grenade. 

 

Innocently, Steve looked up at them and asked, “Is this a test?” 

 

Dr. Erskine looked smug, as smug as he could be, while Phillips grumpily muttered “He’s still skinny.” and walked away from them. 

 

Steve looked back and forth from Dr. Erskine to Natasha, confused and bewildered at what just happened. Somebody threw a grenade to the ground as a test, or what? He still didn’t understand, but he must have done something right if the small smile Dr. Erskine flashed him before he walked away was anything to go by. Natasha remained standing where she was, winking his way before walking away in the direction Dr. Erskine went to. Steve still had no idea what just transpired, but if it made Natasha smiled his way, then he must have done something good, right?

 

\--------

 

He was left alone now. All the other recruits dispersed and transferred to other units once Dr. Erskine announced that Steve would be the man for the job. The good doctor came earlier that night to give him something of a pep talk, telling him how Schmidt, the same man who killed Natasha’s parents, injected himself with the incomplete supersoldier serum, messing up his whole body in consequence. 

 

Dr. Erskine made him promise to not go down the same road Schmidt did. To stay the same man he was today, to not be a perfect soldier but a good man, the man he was and the man he would always tried to be. 

 

Natasha was on his mind again. He hadn’t seen her for the rest of the day, other than earlier this afternoon with the dummy grenade on the training ground. She had made herself scarce, cooped up in her workshop. Steve wanted to see her again, if anything happened tomorrow he needed to see her one last time when he still could. Once he made up his mind to go over to her workshop, a knock sounded from the door. 

 

“Hi,” Natasha entered the empty barracks, “can’t sleep?” 

 

Steve shook his head, “I was just about to go to you. I wanted to see you.” Steve held out his hand for Natasha to take in hers. She did and sat down next to him, her hands rubbed up and down his arm, the soreness from when he landed on them earlier dissipating. 

 

“Here I am. How are you feeling? Nervous?” 

 

“No. Yeah, I guess, a little. Like I’m about to take a big test the next day, you know.” 

 

Natasha chuckled, “In a way, you are. It’s just that the outcome of this test depends on whether you make it out alive with all of your faculties intact or not, not from getting a passing grade.” 

 

“Thanks, Tasha.” Steve scoffed, “you’re very good at comforting people.” 

 

She kissed his cheek, “And yet you love me just the same.” 

 

“I truly do.” Steve turned his head to kiss her, reveling in her presence. “I’m glad I get to see you now. I want to see you one last time like this, just the way I am, so that your last memories of me would be happy ones.” 

 

“You speak as if you’re certain the procedure tomorrow would end in failure,” Natasha scowled, “No, Steve, that’s not going to happen. Howard and I made the Vita Ray machine ourselves, and while I don’t know what it’s in the serum, I’m certain of Erskine’s brilliance. He’s the best there is. By this time tomorrow, you will be the world’s first super soldier. Our hope in turning the tides of war around on the Axis.” Natasha told him, “and you will still be my Steve.” 

 

“Yes. Yours.” Steve kissed her again, “always.” 

 

They broke apart after a few moments spent kissing, “I have to tell you something,” Natasha started, “I’m shipping out tomorrow.” 

 

Steve startled at the unexpected information, “Shipping out-- where?” 

 

“Bletchley Park. SSR’s loaning me to MI6. They need help with the Enigma decoding project over there. Turing’s getting on everybody’s last nerves, apparently.” Natasha chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood. 

 

“England. Will you be safe out there? Schmidt is…” 

 

“I’ll be far away in the British Isle. Far from the fighting in the European mainland. And my involvement in the Enigma project will be classified at the highest level. Need-to-know basis. There will be no public records of my involvement there. Not for at least another fifty years.” 

 

Somewhat reassured for Natasha’s safety, Steve nodded, “I wish I could go with you. Keep you safe.” 

 

“We both have our duties, soldier. Yours is to stay here and be a transformed to the peak of human perfection and mine is to toil away behind computers and machines. Different approaches, same goal. Just like a marriage, yes?” 

 

God, how Steve wished they could get married. But perhaps that’s a topic for another day for them. 

 

“Indeed,” he said simply, pulling Natasha closer to him and leaning his forehead against hers. “Stay the night. If this is the last time we’ll see each other in awhile, then I want to be with you until we have to say goodbye.” 

 

“I will write to you, Steve. I will write to you everyday. This won’t be a permanent goodbye, we will see each other again. We’ll find a way.” Natasha assured him, pleading for him to believe with her warm brown eyes. 

 

“Of course, darling. We’ll find a way.” 

 

They stayed together all through the night. Talking, ostensibly planning a future together. In a world where the war was over and they were free to just be with each other with no baggage, no need to continuously look over one shoulder for a HYDRA assassin. They stayed together until they fell asleep, Steve holding Natasha in his arms and thinking how he could stand to fall asleep like this everyday, with his arms around the woman he loves. 

 

When he woke up the next morning, Natasha was gone. In her stead, the amber pendant necklace was placed on the pillow next to Steve, a piece of paper tied up around the necklace. When Steve unfolded it, Natasha’s neat script read, “ _ I’ll come back to you. _ ” Steve kept the note and the necklace on his person throughout the whole procedure and when he ran through the streets of Brooklyn on the trails of a HYDRA assassin. In his haste to jump in and catch him, he destroyed the note, smudging the letters until it was illegible. 

 

But it was of no great concern. He still has another piece, a more concrete piece of Natasha, with him at all times. The amber pendant now rested next to his dog tags, where it would remain for the rest of his days. 


	3. Words hung above, but never would form

“I don’t know if I can do this.” Steve muttered to the man standing next to him. 

 

Senator Brandt’s aide, whose name somehow always escaped Steve’s memory despite the enhanced memory granted by the super serum shrugged off his concerns. “Nothing to it. Sell off a few bonds, bonds buy bullets, bullets kills Nazi’s. Bing bang boom. You’re an American hero.”

 

“It’s just not how I pictured getting there.” 

 

“The senator’s got a lot of pull up on the hill. You play ball with us, you’ll be leading your own platoon in no time.” he thrust a prop shield to him, “Here, take the shield.” then pushed him towards the stage where the bright and effervescent fluorescent lights of the auditorium almost blinded Steve. 

 

When he said yes to Senator Brandt’s offers to serve his country, he didn’t imagine his role would be a propaganda machine, a war bond selling machine. Travelling around the country like a circus act, play acting punching Hitler in the face, lifting up cars and motorcycles, shooting war movie pieces in the studio. It was the last thing he thought he would be doing after the administration of the serum turned him from a ninety pound asthmatic to two-hundred-fifty pounds of pure muscle who had the stamina of ten men. In his darkest hours, he wondered what Dr. Erskine would think of how he was using the gift he gave Steve. Would he have approved, or would he regret his choice to use the serum on Steve? 

 

Natasha’s letters were the only light at the end of the tunnel that was Steve’s life on the road. Steve had no idea how her letters always managed to find him wherever he might be on the Continental United States. The letters came every other day, like clockwork and Steve cherished every single one of them. Even ones that only contained two lines because Natasha was too tired to write or ones that were smudged with oil and grease. Steve wrote back, telling her everything that transpired in his side of the world, how much he missed her, how much he wished he was with her instead.

 

\--------

 

_ My Steve,  _

 

_ Peggy and Howard arrived in London yesterday and came to my apartment with a picture of you after the super serum infusion. I hardly recognized the man in the picture as you, with his muscles and his broad physique. But I saw that handsome face and knew it could be none other than you, my love. You said before that no woman or man ever looked twice your way, which was good for my mental health. Now, I would have to fight them to get them to stop looking at you. Peggy said she had a lapse in judgement and almost touched your abdomen after you stepped out of the pod. She won’t be making that mistake twice.  _

 

_ Would it be a good time to tell you I told you so? I told you the procedure would work! I’m sorry about Dr. Erskine’s loss. He was a good man and he didn’t deserve the hand that life dealt him with. He never write down a complete workflow on how to synthesize the serum, and I fear no matter what we try to emulate his works, it would be time wasted. In any case, if it only had to work once, I’m glad it was you who it worked on. You’re the best man I know, and you know how to handle this newly bequeathed power without letting it corrupt you.  _

 

_ I miss you, I want to be with you. I await eagerly for the day where we could finally meet again.  _

 

_ Yours,  _

_ Natasha  _

 

\--------

 

_ Dearest Tasha,  _

 

_ Receiving your letter is the brightest part of my day. I wish you could see me now in this new body. I still feel out of sorts with this new body. I’m taller now and I’m still getting used to how wide my strides are. I can get from one end of the room to the other in three strides now where before, I need to make at least six. I’m stronger too now. I accidentally wrenched a door out of its jamb because I was too eager to leave a room earlier this afternoon. I can also breathe easier now, asthma’s gone.  _

 

_ I can see color now. The first color I saw with these new eyes was red, the red of Dr. Erskine’s blood as he laid dying on the floor. I didn’t know how striking it would be. Would I ever be used to any this?  _

 

_ They don’t want me, Tasha. They wanted to send me to Alamogordo, to be studied, to replicate the serum. Colonel Phillips asked for an army, but he only got a soldier, he was short changed on this whole ordeal. He called me an experiment. Like I’m no better than a lab rat.  _

 

_ Senator Brandt offered me a way out. He asked me to come with him to DC, take part in a special project to bolster the war effort. I just want to serve, Tasha. And I can’t do that if I was stuck in a lab somewhere being poked and prodded with instruments and syringes.  _

 

_ I wish you were here. You would know what to say to make sense of this situation. Even hearing you petulantly say ‘I told you so!’ a million times would be a balm for my soul. Would there ever come a time where I could cross the ocean to be with you?  _

 

_ Come back to me.  _

 

_ Forever yours,  _

_ Steve  _

 

\--------

 

_ My Steve,  _

 

_ “The patriot’s blood is the seed of Freedom’s tree.”  _

 

_ I know it pains you not to be here, fighting and putting boots on the ground in the War theatre. However I’m a selfish woman. I’d rather you safe and sound in America than anywhere near the fighting raging on in Europe or the Pacific.  _

 

_ Call me selfish. Call me a coward. Call me a hypocrite if you must, but I will bear that burden and the guilt of surviving if I have you to come home to when this wretched war is over. I made some headway in the (redacted) (redacted). Maybe the next time I see you, it will be in a bar somewhere where I wait for you to show up and buy me a drink.  _

 

_ I love you.  _

 

_ Natasha  _

 

\--------

 

_ Dearest Tasha,  _

 

_ How do you think I feel everyday, knowing that you’re separated from the front lines only by virtue of the English Channel? Everyday reports come in about Blitzkrieg attacks on London and I have to wait with baited breath to know if my heart survives. Whether she made it through the  bombing this time, or if there will come a time where she didn’t and the letters that I cling to, to bring me hope, bring me life, would cease to be delivered because my life’s joy has perished in the attack.  _

 

_ I would rather die a thousand times over than to live a single day without you. I guess neither of us could call the other one a hypocrite by virtue of wanting the safety of the other.  _

 

_ I’ve traveled all over the Continental US by now. The senator said that in every place I visited, war bond sales increased by at least 10%. I guess that’s a good thing, huh? My part of the service.  _

 

_ At this point, I feel like nothing more than a propaganda piece, Tasha. Just a figurehead used to inspire patriotism in people, to indoctrinate them with the “American Way”, to boost enlistment number, to feed the hungry war machine. I fear more and more people would see me as Captain America first and Steve Rogers second. Or maybe the identity of Steve Rogers would fade to obscurity, with none but you to remember him. None but you would hold him dear.  _

 

_ I love you.  _

 

_ Your Steve _

 

\--------

 

_ My Steve,  _

 

_ When will I see you again?  _

 

_ I hate this country. I hate this place. (redacted) is unbearable. Petulant, just like a child and unwilling to accept any criticism or input on his works. The good news is I finished the final designs on (redacted). Soon I’ll be free of the specter of my vengeance and desperation. I’ll finally be free to love you without consequences.  _

 

_ Is it really necessary to rain every day? I haven’t seen the sun in a week.  _

 

_ If I were to die and be reborn in a next life, I’m certain I will always remember you. For how can you forget that which makes up the other half of your soul?  _

 

_ Steve Rogers will live and die as a part of me. This truth is self-evident.  _

 

_ I love you.  _

 

_ Tasha _

 

\--------

_ Tasha,  _

 

_ I’m finally on your side of the globe now. Well, (redacted), to be precise. The USO show finally made its way abroad. They hated us here. They hate me, to be exact. They loved the girls, they just don’t like me. Something about me seemed to rub them the wrong way. Perhaps it’s how a man like me managed to get promoted to the rank of Captain without ever stepping foot on a battlefield? _

 

_ Yeah, I’d hate me too, if I were them.  _

 

_ It’s been raining heavily here too. Almost depressingly so. I’m sorry you have to go through this for the better part of the year.  _

 

_ I wonder if there is a way for me to go to London, just a quick stop to see you again. I miss you so much. My sketchbook is filled with drawings of you, yet they don’t seem to curb the longing and the desperate need I have to touch you and be with you again. You’re so close, yet so far from me, my love.  _

 

_ I long for you. I love you.  _

 

_ Steve _

\--------

 

_ Tasha,  _

 

_ Bucky’s unit was ambushed by HYDRA at Azzano. Everyone was either killed or taken as prisoner of war. Colonel Phillips couldn’t tell me if he was KIA or still missing. I have to go after him, i have to rescue him,Tasha. He’s my brother.  _

 

_ I hope you understand.  _

 

_ I love you. I will come back to you.  _

 

_ Your Steve _

 

\--------

 

“The HYDRA camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges. It’s a factory of some kind.” Peggy briefed him on the plane, flying clandestinely over the mountains. Howard Stark at the pilot seat after Peggy volunteered him on their mission. 

 

“We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Stark told him.

 

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve looked at the two people he managed to drag into this mess with him, “You know, you two are gonna be in a lot of trouble at the lab.” 

 

“We’ll be in an even bigger trouble with Natasha if we don’t help you.” Peggy said. At the mention of Natasha, Steve smiled and wondered what she would do if she were here with them. She’d probably volunteered to fly the plane and follow him to the HYDRA base. 

 

“Besides what makes you think you won’t be in trouble?” 

 

“Where I’m goin’, if anybody yells at me I can just shoot ‘em.” Steve shrugged. 

 

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” 

 

Steve gestured at his prop shield, “Well, let’s hope it’s good for somethin’.” 

 

“Agent Carter, if we’re not in too much of a hurry I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late night fondue.” Howard chimed in from the pilot’s seat, prompting Steve to raise his eyebrows in bewilderment. Oh wow, he didn’t know Peggy and Howard were like that…

 

“Oh, wow. So you two...you two are...does Tasha know?” 

 

Peggy expertly sidestepped his awkward questioning, “This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.”

 

“And you’re sure this thing works?” 

 

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard chimed in again before shots were being fired at them. Steve moved towards the door much to Peggy’s dismay. And ignoring her angry calls to get back and stay inside, he told them to turn around as soon as he was free, sassing Peggy back when she told him he couldn’t order her around. 

 

Of course he could. He’s a captain, after all. 

\--------

 

“We seem to have hit a plateau in our production process of the Valkyrie.” Dr. Arnim Zola, head scientist of HYDRA, fearfully told Schmidt, “Our initial designs for the extraction and stabilization of Tesseract seemed to have reach its maximum point.” 

 

“Then increase the output by 60 % and see to it our other facilities do the same.” Schmidt said dismissively. 

 

“But the prisoners...I’m not sure they have the strength.” Zola stammered out. 

 

“Then use up what strength they have left, Doctor. There are always more workers.” 

 

“As you wish, _mein Fuhrer_. In the meantime, I have looked over the Tesseract stabilizer, and noticed some discrepancies on the blueprint. I believe this is what is causing our difficulties in expediting the weapons manufacturing process.” Zola said again, showing the blueprints to Schmidt as proof. 

 

“Hmph, of course it is.” Schmidt scoffed, “Scholl, that rat bastard. He purposefully filled his workshop with defective blueprints, thinking we won’t notice until it’s too late.” 

 

“I can recalibrate and redesign the stabilizer. But it would take months, if not years, to have it operational. And it will hamper our progress significantly.” 

 

“No need for that, doctor. There is someone else out there who have been working on the stabilizer longer than you have.” Schmidt assuaged Zola’s fears, “and she will be sharing the final design with us very soon.” 

 

“You found her?” Zola looked surprised. Scholl’s daughter, Natasha, disappeared shortly after her parents’ death. Prior to her disappearance, she was slated to replace her father after his unfortunate “accident”. Her reputation and intelligence were well-known in the scientific community. If anybody knew how to reengineer Scholl’s stabilizer, it would be her. Her surrender to HYDRA and its missions were crucial and important for their success. 

 

“Yes. Now we will just have to wait for the most opportune of times.” he laughed sinisterly, while Zola looked on in fear. 

 

\--------

 

Steve snuck into the HYDRA factory with little trouble. This new body of his was clearly designed for the battlefield. He easily deflected punches and kicks from HYDRA soldiers, incapacitated them with nary a thought and managed to infiltrate the facility in twenty minutes flat. 

 

Which was where the problem starts. The factory was huge, Steve didn’t know when to start. He spotted some cartridges, glowing in bright blue, unlike any weapons he had ever seen before. He crept closer to snag a few of them as souvenirs for Natasha and Howard to tinker with. Maybe these will help them finally bring HYDRA down, once and for all. 

 

He started to move his way to the basement, chances were they kept the POWs down there. And wouldn’t you know, he was right. One swift punch to the face of a patrolling HYDRA soldier and he swiped the key out of his pocket for the prisoners to free themselves. 

 

“Who are you supposed to be?” one of them asked him.

 

“Uh…” Steve struggled to come up with a reply before deciding, what the hell, might as well embrace the inevitable, “Captain America.” 

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

Once all the prisoners have been freed, Steve asked him if there were anyone else in the building that needed to be rescued. He didn’t find Bucky among the prisoners here and was grasping for hope, any possibilities that could mean he was still alive. 

 

“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes.” 

 

“There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it.” one of the men answered, pointing at the direction of isolation ward. 

 

“All right. The tree line is northwest, 80 yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. I’ll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else I find.” Steve commanded them. 

 

“Wait! You know what you’re doin’?” 

 

“Yeah. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times.” Steve answered back cheekily then ran towards the isolation ward. 

 

On his way to the isolation ward, Steve spotted two figures running away. One a taller man with slight muscular build and another shorter man, with rotund build. Steve hesitated to run after them, deciding the possibility of rescuing Bucky to weigh more than chasing after some HYDRA goons. 

 

He found Bucky strapped to a chair, muttering deliriously, once in a while spouting out his serial number, name and rank. 

 

“Bucky? Oh, my God.”

 

“Is that…” he trailed off as he saw Steve’s face hovered above his. 

 

“It’s me. Steve.”

 

“Steve?” 

 

“Come on.” Steve urged him gently, propping Bucky up and placing his arm around his shoulder to make it easier for Bucky to walk out of the room. 

 

“I thought you were smaller. What happened to you?” Bucky asked again. 

 

“I joined the Army.” Steve answered simply, looking around for the best way to exit out of the compound. 

 

“Did it hurt?” 

 

“A little.” 

 

“Is it permanent?” 

 

“So far.” Steve shrugged. They managed to return to above ground floors. The factory ablaze around them, Steve assumed it was the handy work of the prisoners he freed earlier. Steve had to admit he was impressed by it. 

 

They ran through the factory, looking for an exit. Bucky seemed to be feeling better, or perhaps the adrenaline rushing through his system gave him the strength to escape. As they ran, they encountered two figures. The same two Steve saw earlier in his search for Bucky. The taller of the two spoke, addressing him. 

 

“Captain America! How exciting! I’m a great fan of your films.” The smarmy man exclaimed. It was Johann Schmidt, Steve recognized him from the briefing packets, “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still impressive.”  

 

This man killed Dr. Erskine, killed Natasha’s parents and ruined Natasha’s life. Steve felt the overwhelming urge to punch him, and he did. 

 

“You’ve got no idea.”  

 

“Haven’t I?” Schmidt retorted. He parried a blow at Steve, which he deflected with his shield. Schmidt, possessing super strength that equaled Steve’s, managed to dent the shield. They sparred for a while. Steve channeling all his rage and frustration into his punches and kicks and blows aimed at the man. As they fought, Schmidt’s companion pulled the lever, separating the two super humans. 

 

“No matter what lies Erskine told you, you see I was his greatest success!” the Schmidt proceeded to peel his face off, revealing a red colored skull underneath the facade. Steve and Bucky stared on in horror at the spectacle. 

 

“You don’t have one of those, do you?” Bucky asked faintly. Steve was too speechless to respond. 

 

“You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!” as he said so, he and his companion entered an elevator that started ascending to a one man plane. Schmidt threw a car key at his companion, telling him to not get a scratch on said car. 

 

Steve and Bucky were left behind in the burning inferno that was HYDRA’s factory. They started to step on the catwalk above the fiery ruins of the machines below, Bucky walking first. As soon as Bucky was safely on the other side, Steve stepped on the catwalk that promptly collapsed under his weight. 

 

“Gotta be a rope or something!” Bucky yelled. 

 

“Just go! Get out of here!” Steve yelled back. 

 

“No! Not without you!” Bucky insisted. Steve looked at him then back down at the gaping chasm that offer certain doom if he fall below. 

 

Here goes nothing. Natasha’s gonna kill me when she finds out about this, he thought. 


	4. Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn

“Senator Brandt, I regret to report that Captain Steven G. Rogers went missing behind enemy lines on the third.” Back in the Army base camp, Colonel Phillips read out a standard passage of death notification, “Aerial reconnaissance has proven unfruitful. As a result, I must declare Captain Rogers killed in action. Period.” 

 

Peggy came in to the tent, a sheaf of paper in her hand, her face solemn, “The last surveillance flight is back. No sign of activity.” 

 

Phillips instructed his aide to leave the tent, leaving him alone with Peggy. “I can’t touch Stark. He’s rich and he’s the Army’s number one weapons contractor. You are neither one.” 

 

“With respect, sir, I don’t regret my actions. And I don’t think Captain Rogers did either.” Peggy responded. She didn’t regret her actions, she only regretted that she would be the one to inform her good friend of the demise of her beloved. 

 

“What makes you think I give a damn about your opinions. I took a chance with you, Agent Carter. And now America’s golden boy and a lot of other good men are dead, cause you had a crush.” Phillips retorted, condescendingly. 

 

“I had faith, Sir.” 

 

“Well, I hope that’s a big comfort to you when they shut this division down.” Suddenly a ruckus started outside of the tent, gaining Phillips’ attention, “What the hell’s going on out there?” 

 

Outside, a group of soldiers, some of them wounded, all of them dirty and worn out walked towards the camp. Leading them was none other than Captain Steven Grant Rogers, triumphant and resolute in his convictions and his successful rescue mission of the people that the Army had given up on. 

 

He stopped his stride in front of Phillips and saluted him. “Some of these men need medical attention. I’d like to surrender myself for disciplinary action.” 

 

“That won’t be necessary.” Phillips answered. Well, he’ll be damned. Rogers just kept proving him wrong. 

 

“Yes, sir.” 

 

Phillips turned to Peggy, “Faith, huh?” he figured she deserved that self-satisfied smirk on her face and walked away back to his tent. He had a death notification letter to burn. 

 

\--------

_ Allied Headquarters, London, 1943 _

 

Steve, Peggy, Phillips, Howard and a few other SSR higher ups were conferring together in one of the meeting rooms. 

 

“The fifth one was here in Poland, right near the Baltic.” Steve marked the map, indicating the location of a HYDRA factory he gleaned from his observations, “And the sixth one was… about here, 30, 40 miles west of the Maginot Line. I just got a quick look.” 

 

“Well, nobody’s perfect.” Peggy quipped.

 

Steve chose to ignore that dig at him and briefed them on what Bucky told him, “These are the weapon factories we know about. Sergeant Barnes said that Hydra shipped all the parts to another facility that isn’t on this map.”

 

“Agent Carter, coordinate with MI6. I want every Allied eyeball looking for that main Hydra base.” Phillips instructed. 

 

“What about us?” 

 

“We are gonna set a fire under Johann Schmidt’s ass. What do you say, Rogers? It’s your map, you think you can wipe Hydra off of it?” 

 

Steve looked at the map, at the locations of where HYDRA’s facilities were located. If he succeeded in this mission, the tides of war would turn in the Allies’ favor. And he would finally be reunited with Natasha again.

 

“Yes, sir. I’ll need a team.”

 

“We’re already putting together the best men.”

 

“With all due respect, sir. So am I.” 

  
  
  
  
  


Natasha collapsed on her bed for the first time in forty eight hours. The grueling work she put in to put all the finishing touches on her personal projects as well as the Enigma project meant that she hadn’t been home to her assigned apartment in the last three days. She stunk to high heaven, her hair was a complete mess and it felt like a small animal had died in her mouth. 

 

She groaned in satisfaction as she settled in bed, the mattress felt comfortable on her sore back. There was a pile of letters on her desk, she would bet anything that they were from Steve. Natasha had heard of his daring rescue of the HYDRA POWs. She was glad that Steve finally got a chance to prove himself, to prove that he was more than worth the mantle of super soldier. The last letter she read from him, telling her that he had to go, had to rescue Bucky, and that he would come back to her. 

 

He certainly did that and more. Captain America became a national icon in the span of two weeks. He was supposed to be awarded the Medal of Valor back in DC. 

 

She didn’t know where he was now. She was in blackout mode for the last week, missing out on any pertinent communiques regarding the progress of the war. This morning she received word that she was being reassigned, the SSR wanted her back. Her tenure at Bletchley Park was over. Thank God for that. If she had to spend one more day in Turing’s presence, she would choke the man to death with her thighs. And he, more than any other man, would hate having a woman’s anything wrapped around him. 

 

She missed Steve. God, where was he? Was he still in Europe, or back stateside? She knew she could get an answer from the pile of letters on her bed, but before she could pick one of them up, a knock on the door grabbed her attention. Turned out, Peggy was on the other side of the door, inviting and cajoling her to go out tonight to the pub in town. All Natasha wanted to do tonight was sit on her bed, read through all the letter Steve sent her. And after she read through it all, she’d go back and re-read them again, until she fell asleep. But Peggy was persistent, she wouldn’t take no for an answer and finally Natasha relented and agreed to join her. 

 

“Alright, let me just brush my teeth and we’ll go.” 

 

“Oh no, we won’t. Not like this.” 

 

“What? What’s wrong with what we’re wearing?” 

 

“Tasha, love, your attire is more grease stain than fabric at this point. I would advise you change them.” 

 

Natasha looked down at her attire, seeing it covered in grease and oil and other stains she didn’t recall getting on there in the first place. Perhaps Peggy had a point, “Right. Shower then pub. And then you’ll leave me alone for the rest of the night to re-read my Steve letters.” 

 

“Of course.” the sly smile Peggy had on her face was worrying, to say the least. 

  
  
  
  


The boys wholeheartedly agree to go back to the jaws of HYDRA. All they asked was for Steve to open a tab at the bar. It was the least he could do if he was about to ask them to put their lives on the line like that. 

 

“See? I told you. They’re all idiots.” Bucky was leaning against the bar counter, a bottle of beer in his hand. The atmosphere at the bar was loud and raucous. Someone was singing at the piano nearby. It was to forget that there was a war raging just outside of these walls. 

 

“How about you? You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?” Steve asked Bucky, needing to know that his brother would be there to join him in this mission. 

 

“Hell, no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I’m following him. But you’re keeping the outfit, right?” Bucky grinned. 

 

“You know what? It’s kind of growing on me.” Steve smiled, lifting his own drink up to Bucky’s to toast with. He was enjoying this brief respite of normalcy in the midst of the chaos of war, but his enjoyment was somewhat dampened by the pang of longing for Natasha by his side. He was finally in London, but he didn’t know where she was. Nobody would tell him of Natasha’s whereabouts. Apparently, she was a person of high interest and details of her whereabouts were kept as vague as possible for her security. 

 

Steve still send her letters, and since they weren’t returned undelivered, he had hope that she received them. There was an ache deep inside his heart the longer his letters remained unanswered. She was somewhere in this city, so close and yet so far away from his reach. 

 

The lively music in the bar suddenly stopped playing. Steve looked around to find the source of the disruption only to see Peggy Carter walking in to the bar, dressed in a tight red dress. She was done up for the night, lipstick as red as blood, hair not a strand out of place. She was a beautiful woman indeed, but Steve only had eyes for one woman and she wasn’t here. 

 

“Captain.” 

 

“Agent Carter.” Steve nodded politely at her. 

 

“Howard has some equipment for you to try. Tomorrow morning?”

 

“Sounds good.” 

 

Peggy looked around to where Dugan, Dernier, Falsworth, Morita and Jones were drinking away in merriment. “I see you top squad is prepping for duty.” 

 

Steve chuckled at her comment. As far as he was concerned, they deserved the night. 

 

“You don’t like music?” Bucky asked Peggy, his voice and his tone affecting the sounds of a man trying desperately hard to be suave. 

 

Peggy paid him no mind, “I do, actually. I might even, when this is all over, go dancing.” 

 

“Then what are we waiting for?” Bucky said again. Steve had to bite on his lip to keep from laughing aloud at how much Bucky was making a fool of himself in the face of Peggy’s disinterest. 

 

Whatever Peggy said next was lost on him. The door to the pub opened again and this time, a figure walked in, hunched up in her coat to ward off the cold. She walked past Steve, Bucky and Peggy to sit on the far corner of the bar counter, flagging down the bartender for a drink.

 

Steve hasn’t seen her in a year. But he would know her anywhere. 

 

He walked away from where Bucky was still trying in vain to flirt with Peggy to her. Natasha was still as beautiful as he remembered her, despite the dark circles under her eyes indicating her exhaustion. Her cheeks were more pronounced than the last time he saw her, she has lost weight. Probably forgot to eat on her many work binges. 

 

“Can I buy you a drink?” Steve asked her, referencing one of their letters where Natasha said the next time meet would be in a bar. 

 

“Not interested.” she answered, not looking up from her journal where she was scribbling something down. 

 

“Come on, it’s just a drink. Not a marriage proposal.” Steve said again, a small smile gracing his lips. He was equal parts amused and impressed by Natasha’s steadfastness in fending off unwanted me. 

 

“Not interested.” 

 

“Are you sure? Just one drink on me.” 

 

“Look, buddy.” Natasha slammed her journal shut, finally lifting her head up to address Steve, “I said I wasn’t interested. Why don’t you go and fuck a duck...” she trailed off as she realized Steve was the one who’s been talking to her. Natasha was wide eyed in astonishment, her mouth gaping open. 

 

“Still not interested?” Steve teased her again. Natasha remained rooted to her seat, staring at Steve, eyes unblinking. 

 

“Steve?” she asked timidly. 

 

“Hello, sweetheart,” Steve’s hands were itching to touch her, to hold her again in his arms. Natasha seemed to feel the same way, though, for she jumped up from her seat and suddenly Steve had an armful of Natasha, clinging to him desperately. A feeling Steve was too familiar with when it comes to her. 

 

“Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve!” she whispered fervently in his ears, “Is it true? Is it really you? My Steve…” 

 

Steve tightened his hold around her, committing the feel of her body against his. Her scent and her warmth surrounded him, chasing away all his weariness. “It’s true. I’m here, sweetheart. I’m with you now, Tasha.” 

 

Natasha held on to him for moments longer. The background noise and the sounds surrounding them seem to quiet down, everyone’s attention glued to them but Steve only had eyes and ears for Natasha, for his love. 

 

“Look at you,” Natasha said reverently, fingers softly tracing the bridge of his nose, then moving to his jawline and his cheekbones. “You’re taller now,” she chuckled. 

 

“That seems to be the consensus, yes.” Steve grinned at her. The way they were now, Natasha was the one who has to look up at him, his blue eyes shining bright down to Natasha’s brown ones. Her hands started to move downwards, patting his arms, feeling for his muscles underneath his uniform. 

 

“Well, peak of physical perfection indeed,” she teased, rubbing her hands along Steve’s biceps. Steve felt a blush creeping up his cheeks and cleared his throat, “I’m still me.” 

 

“I know, darling. I’ve seen the pictures of you after the serum. I’m just amazed at how different you are now from the last time I saw you.”

 

“I’ve missed you. I dreamed about this moment so many times.” 

 

“I did too.” Natasha leaned her head on his shoulder, “I feel like I’m dreaming. This feels like one of those dreams I have, the ones where when I wake up I would find myself waking up from sleeping on my work desk.” 

 

“This is real, Tasha. As real as it can be.” 

 

Bucky approached the embracing couple, clearing his throat to gain their attention, “Hey there, hi. I’m Bucky, this big lug’s best friend. And you must be…” 

 

“Natasha Stark. Currently stepping out with this big lug.” Natasha teased Steve, delighting at his blushing face. 

 

“Well, I wish I could say I’ve heard a lot about you, but a certain someone failed to mention he was seeing someone. Especially not someone as pretty as you.” Bucky said, smirking all the way in an effort to charm Natasha. 

 

Natasha smirked back, “Well, Steve told me a lot of stories about you, unfortunately. And not all of them flattering.” 

 

“I assure you those are all exaggerated lies, and I’d be more than happy to set everything straight over a drink with you.” 

 

“Bucky,” Steve cut in, knowing what Bucky was trying to do. 

 

“What, Stevie? You finally got yourself a dame and never even told me about it. As your best friend, I am shocked and saddened at this turn of events. I would never hold things back from  _ you _ .” 

 

“Yes, you would. Or did you forget about that time you ‘forgot’ to tell me we’ve been evicted from our place and was squatting?”

 

“Psh, it was a tenement, Steve. Everyone there was squatting.” Bucky waved off his words, “Had to use the money to buy the cigarettes for this guy’s asthma medicine.” he pointed his thumb at Steve’s direction, Natasha looking decidedly amused. 

 

“I have a lot of opinions about using cigarettes for asthma medicine, but I’ll keep it to myself for tonight. Right now, how’s about you buy me that drink, soldier?” She addressed Steve, turning around in his arms to wrap one of her arms around his waist, “And you introduce me with your friends over there and we can catch up.” 

 

“It’d be my pleasure.” 

  
  
  


Natasha and Bucky got along like a house on fire, much to Steve’s amusement and dismay. Now, he would have two people in his life giving him a hard time and generally being unimpressed with his newfound status as a “National Icon”. It was a good thing in Steve’s book, a way to make sure he stayed grounded and not get big headed about the way things were right now for him. 

 

Steve was delighted to hear from Natasha that her time with MI6 was coming to a close, and that she had been reassigned to work for SSR once again. 

 

“Soon, you’ll be seeing me almost everyday around the barracks, you’ll get sick of it.” 

 

“I’m sure that would never happen.” Steve told her, squeezing her hand below the table where they were currently gathered around for drinks with Bucky and the rest of his team. 

 

“We’ll find out soon enough.” she grinned at him. Steve was elated at today’s turn of events. Just this morning he was plotting for ways to surreptitiously glean classified  information on Natasha’s location and now, here she was, sitting next to him, one of her hands entwined with his and drinking an absurd amount of beer, rivaling Dugan. 

 

Steve told her about his rescue mission, how he disobeyed Colonel Phillips’ orders, got Peggy and Howard in trouble and generally not being the perfect soldier everybody expected him to be. Natasha took it all in stride, telling him that he wasn’t supposed to be perfect in the first place, he was human and while all his physical flaws have been fixed, who Steve was as a person, his values and his principles were still his. 

 

“It’s what set you apart from Schmidt. You would never abuse your powers because you know the consequences of an unchecked and uncontrolled hubris. And you’re a good man, Steve. The best man I know.” 

 

“Schmidt…” Steve shuddered at the mention of his name, “did I tell you that the skin and muscles on his face melted away? He wore this mask, and when he peeled I saw what was hidden underneath: A red colored skull.” 

 

“No!” Natasha gasped, “Truly? How horrifying. Well, at least now his outside matches his inside. Just like the Devil.”

 

“Also, I snagged some cartridges they used to fuel their weapons for you and Howard to tinker with. It had a strange blue glow. Could that be because of the Tesseract?” 

 

“Possibly. I would have to take a closer look tomorrow morning, though. Will you be there?” 

 

“Yes. Howard has a couple of new suits for me to try.” 

 

“Good. I’ll be there too.” Natasha smiled softly, and surveyed the group of rowdy men sitting across from them, drinking and joking with each other, “so, these are the best men you could find to stop HYDRA, then?” her tone was teasing, Steve knew she trusted his judgement on people. 

 

“Best of the best.” Steve raised his glass. At that moment Dugan, who was locked in a hand wrestling match with Falsworth, finally won, putting the man’s hand down on the table with flourish and standing up holding his arms aloft howling out his victory. 

 

“Just that howl by itself is going to scare some HYDRA soldiers to surrendering.” Natasha commented at the display eliciting Steve’s laughter. 

 

“Captain America and the Howling platoons.” 

 

“Hmm, nah. ‘Platoon’ doesn’t really evoke a sense of urgency, or or intimidate you to surrender. Captain America and the Howling--” Natasha searched for a more appropriate noun. Her eyes lit up and she snapped her fingers, “Commandos! Captain America and the Howling Commandos!”

 

Steve looked back at the group of men who, by their own admissions, willingly followed him back to the gaping maw of HYDRA’s villainous machinations and put a stop to it once and for all. Steve used to be alone in this world, with only Bucky as his brother and companion. Now, in the midst of a war decimating Europe and the rest of the world, he found himself in the company of more people than ever had known in his life. Natasha, Bucky, Peggy, Howard and the Howling Commandos were a part of his life now. 

 

In the midst of a war, Steve found the family he always longed for. He would never be alone. 


	5. Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted

They walked back together, back to Natasha’s MI6 assigned apartment. Starting tomorrow she would be staying in one of the rooms at the barracks in SSR's headquarters. Wanting to spend as much time with her as possible before his departure for the next mission, Steve walked her back to her house, walking hand in hand and feeling just like any other couple in the world uncaring of the specter of war hanging over their heads.

 

“Come up with me?” Natasha asked him, eyes alight with eagerness. 

 

“Of course.” Steve kissed her palms, letting her lead them inside and up to her rooms. 

 

It was small and quaint. There were technical manuals and engineering textbooks on the shelves and on the floor. Draft papers strewn about on the desk and on the floor. Steve spied a pile of letters on the work desk. On closer inspection, his own handwritings were on the envelopes. 

 

“I haven’t been home in three days and I’ve missed your letters. Tonight was the first night I’ve been home and Peggy came to nag me to go to a pub when all I wanted to do was hunker down on my bed and read all of your letters.” Natasha explained, “I couldn’t figure out why she was so persistent about it, but I guess she knew you would be there and set the whole thing up. Sneaky woman.” she smiled deprecatingly. 

 

“I worry about you. All the time. I wondered if you were eating enough, if you’re safe here.” Steve confided in her, “when I saw Schmidt, I thought about how much of your life has been ruined and destroyed by what he’d done. How he might take you away from me if I fail to stop him.” 

 

“I’m here, Steve. Still with you, beloved.” Natasha moved to hug Steve, “safe and sound in your arms tonight.” 

 

Steve tightened his embrace, dropping his head onto her shoulder and inhaling the unique scent of Natasha: coffee, singed metal and oil. The best smell in his whole world. “Always. Always, Tasha. I love you so much.” 

 

“I love you,” she whispered back. Steve stepped back from the embrace, then leaned down to kiss her. The first touch of her lips on his felt like a breath of fresh air, life-giving and affirming. Lighting up all his senses. Natasha moaned softly, opening up her lips to his seeking tongue, welcoming his ministrations and wholeheartedly reciprocating his desire with her own. 

 

Steve placed his hands on her waist, halting their kiss and gaining her attention. “Steve, darling what?” 

 

“I need you, Tasha.” he managed to gasp out. Just one kiss, and it was all it took for him to burn desperately, to feel her body on his, to know what it would be like for them to finally consummate this bond, this love between them.

 

“Say no more.” Tasha smiled softly, placing her arms around Steve’s neck and pulling him down for hard, passionate kiss. Steve melted into her touch, kissing back pouring every bit of love and desire he had for her into his kisses. He felt her legs started to slide up his thighs and anticipating the move, Steve wrapped her legs around him, holding her up with little effort, carrying and holding the precious cargo in his arms. 

 

“Take me to bed, soldier.” she whispered, and Steve obliged, nuzzling her neck where her scent was strongest, and leaving little bites and sucking kisses to mark her. Let it be known to the world that she was Steve’s. And Steve was hers for all the world to see. 

 

They reached the bed and no sooner had Steve laid her down, Natasha tugged at his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers and unbuttoning it. Her hands caressed his stomach, tracing the lines of his well defined abdomen, a sly smile on her face telling Steve that Natasha had been picturing this for awhile. 

 

“When Peggy told me how you looked like after the serum, and how she almost lost control and touched your naked torso, I have to admit I went on a bit of temper tantrum. She almost touched you. I can’t allow that. You’re mine. My Steve.” 

 

“I’m yours,” Steve kissed her reverently, “and you’re mine. My Tasha.” 

 

Clothes were shed and thrown haphazardly on the floor without a care. Soon enough, nothing separated them from each other, only the virtue of their worldly bodies, pressed against each other as close as two people could before becoming one: One body, one soul, one presence. 

 

From this point forward, nothing distinguished the man Steve Rogers and the woman Natasha Stark. Their union cemented what both already knew deep in their heart of hearts, two halves of a whole being separated by God, finally recognizing their counterparts and united to be whole again. 

\--------

 

Steve woke up the next morning feeling different. First, the sheets were much softer than what he was used to, and the pillows were actually soft enough for him to feel comfortable to lay his head on. The blankets were nice and soft, not scratchy like the Army issue blankets they have back in the barracks. And second, someone was sleeping in the bed next to him, nestled to his side. There was a weight on his chest, and Steve discovered as he opened his eyes, it was Natasha’s head on his chest, sleeping soundly with her arms around him and not a stitch of clothing between them. 

 

Steve blushed as he remembered the events of the night. Last night, they finally made love, consummated their relationship. Steve ran his hands down her back, reveling in the feeling of her skin against his and savoring her warmth. Natasha felt so good, so amazing, patiently showing him what to do and how to touch her. Steve wondered if anything would ever feel this good ever again. His first night with Natasha showed him how much they belonged together. 

 

They moved together perfectly, passionately and when Steve was inside her he could have sworn that he could feel her heart beating in time with his. They’ve bonded together, plain and simple. They would never know loneliness ever again, as long as they both live. 

 

Natasha started to stir awake, her brown eyes fluttering open. She smiled as she looked up and saw Steve’s smiling face greeting her. “Good morning,” he whispered.

 

“Morning, love.” she replied, tilting her head up for a kiss Steve was more than willing to give. The shift of her body pressed her breasts against Steve’s side, stirring up memories of the night before and igniting his passion and desires once again. Steve felt himself started to harden underneath the covers and tried in vain to ignore it. 

 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, her fingers stroking his cheeks gently. 

 

“Amazing. God, Tasha, you were so...good. You were so beautiful last night, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

 

“Mm,” she hummed, the mischievous gleam in her eyes and the small smirk on her lips failed to hide how pleased she was with herself for bringing Steve to such heady pleasure, “I’m glad you enjoyed it, stud.” 

 

“Understatement.” Steve leaned down for another kiss. This time he deepened the kiss, Natasha more than willing to reciprocate, opening her own mouth against Steve’s and winding her arms around Steve’s neck,  her thighs parting for Steve to settle in between them. 

 

They continued to kiss, enjoying the intimacy and closeness the moment brought them. Steve would cherish this feeling forever, all of his senses filled with everything about Natasha: the taste and smell of her skin, the feel of her lips, the touch of her fingertips caressing his face and carding her fingers through his hair, the warmth of her thighs as she gently cradled him between them the way she did last night. 

 

“Steve, darling,” she whispered after breaking their kiss, “did you bring your gun to bed, or are you just happy to see me?” 

 

Steve groaned and dropped his head on the valley between her breasts, “We were having a moment, Tasha. It’s gone now.” 

 

She snickered amusedly, “Sorry, honey. I couldn’t resist.” Natasha pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Let me make it up to you.” 

 

“Yeah, how?” Steve glanced up at her smiling face. 

 

“You’ll see. I promise you’ll love it.”

\--------

 

After he snuck back in to base, Steve hurriedly showered and changed his uniform to a clean one, throwing the one he’d been wearing the night before in the hamper to be washed later. Then he walked down to the basement where Howard’s workshop was, intending to keep the 0800 appointment time with the inventor. 

 

When he got there however, Howard was nowhere to be seen. Natasha seemed to be absent as well, though she promised she would be around the workshop to tinker on whatever HYDRA paraphernalia Steve managed to snag during the rescue mission. There was only one assistant standing by outside, though she too seemed to be preoccupied with the newspaper she was reading. 

 

“Ma’am? Excuse me, I’m looking for Howard Stark.” Steve said to gaining her attention.

 

“He’s in a meeting with Colonel Phillips,” Lorraine didn’t even bother looking up from her newspaper, just for some soldier. But when she saw who it was, she couldn’t pass up the chance to speak to him, “Of course you’re welcome to wait.” 

 

Steve nodded to her in gratitude and perched on an empty desk to wait for Howard. 

 

“I read about what you did.” she said again, holding up the newspaper she had been reading, flashing the headline reporting the POW rescue mission on the front page.

 

“Oh! The…yeah! Well, that’s you know? Just doin’ what needed to be done.” Steve shrugged, still feeling nervous and out of sorts whenever someone complimented him. It has been and will be something to get used to. 

 

“Sounded like more than that. You saved nearly four hundred men.” 

 

“Really, it’s not a big deal.” Steve insisted. 

 

“Tell that to their wives.” 

 

She started to get up from her seat and walked her way to Steve. There was a gleam in her eyes that Steve was familiar with. He saw it in Natasha’s eyes last night before she rode him to kingdom come, and earlier this morning too. 

 

Oh, no. Mayday, mayday. 

 

“Uh…I don’t think they were all married.” Steve’s eyes flickered from side to side, trying to find a way out. 

“You’re a hero.” Closer. 

 

“Well, that…you know? That…that depends on the definition of it really.” and now she has his tie wrapped around her fingers. Dear God, help. 

 

“The women of America, they owe you their thanks. And seeing as they’re not here.” and without fanfare, she planted a surprised and unwanted kiss on him. Steve held his arms aloft, struggling not to react to her sticky, rouged up lips on his. It felt weird and very wrong for some reason. He kissed Natasha plenty of times, but it had never felt as fundamentally wrong as it felt right now. He wanted to push her away, but feared he would hurt her with his super strength. So Steve did the only safe thing: nothing. Hopefully she’d take the hint from how unresponsive he was to her kiss. 

 

“Captain!” Peggy’s voice barking at him was his saving grace. Lorraine finally released him and Steve surreptitiously wiped his lips to get rid of the taste of her on his mouth, “We’re ready for you. If you’re not otherwise occupied.” Peggy sounded annoyed and immediately turned to walk away. Steve couldn’t really blame, for all intents and purposes she did just caught him stepping out on her best friend. He had to explain the situation to her, or at least tell her not to talk to Natasha before Steve has a chance to explain himself. 

 

“Agent Carter, wait.” Steve hastily ran after her, “Peggy, that’s not what you thought it was.” 

 

“Then what was it, Steve? Because it sure looks like you’re kissing another woman while claiming to be going steady with Natasha. Nat said you always wanted to be soldier and now I guess you are. Just like all the rest.” 

 

“Look, if you’re not gonna believe anything I say then at least give me a chance to explain everything to Natasha.” Steve reasoned with her, “it’s the least you could do.” 

 

Peggy took one look at him and looked away dismissively, storming off in a huff. Steve just hoped she at least honored his pleas and not tell Natasha anything about what had happened. 

 

\--------

 

“Emission signature is unusual. Alpha and beta ray neutral.” Howard already dissected the HYDRA cartridges when Natasha arrived to lab this morning. She was late, for two reasons: one, because she had to pack her stuff and move everything out of the MI6 apartment and to the barracks and two, because of Steve. 

 

Steve. Oh, what a night they spent together. After last night, the difference between having sex and making love became poignantly clear in Natasha’s mind. There was no way she could go back to having casual encounters behind closed doors, not that she would mind you. She has Steve, now. Her Steve who made love to her, at first timidly and hesitantly, unsure of what to do. But then once he was assured of her pleasure at his hands, he became confident and the rest was history. He ruined Natasha for anyone else, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. 

 

Steve made love like he fought, with an all consuming purpose and focus unparalleled by none. His goal was to give Natasha pleasure and he wouldn’t stop until she came, and came hard. There were several moments where Steve literally took her breath away by the intensity of his touches. The man could eat pussy and enjoy doing it like no other she had ever seen, that’s for sure. 

 

Just thinking about what happened last night caused her to heat up underneath her clothes. Her whole body was sore, in a good way. She could still feel how open she was from where Steve was inside her all night long. She steeled herself, trying to look as normal as possible and not resembling a woman who was still recovering from the best night of her life, and moved to stand behind Howard where he was making observations on the orb. She snagged a piece of paper detailing the preliminary emission parameters that the research associates had write up for them. 

 

“Is that the energy source of the HYDRA weapons?” Natasha asked him. Howard was right, the readings on the emission signature was different than she had ever seen before. It seemed unusually stable with an enormously long predicted half-life period. How peculiar. “I’ve never seen an emission signature like this before. Be careful, Howard.” 

 

“Seems harmless enough. Hard to see what all the fuss is about.” Howard waved her off. 

 

Natasha sighed and moved away from the man. He was about to do something stupid, she knew it. Howard moved the pincers to tap one of the particles floating and grabbed it. Then he tried to isolate one of the glowing pellets for further study only to initiate a blast that caused him and his research assistant flying across the room. 

 

“Told you.” 

 

“Write that down.” Howard croaked out from the floor. 

 

Natasha walked over to help him up, reprimanding him all the way. “If you had only paid attention during particle physics lectures, you’d know that long half lives indicate highly volatile objects with high Van der Waals interaction energy. They don’t like to be disturbed.” she placed her hand on Howard’s back, surreptitiously healing the bruises that were starting to form from slamming into the wall. 

 

“Ugh, who died and made you Ernest Rutherford?” 

 

“Ernest Rutherford. Duh.” 

 

Howard scowled at her. “That thing looked like a self-sustaining ball of energy. I have no idea how it manages to lack alpha and beta rays, and emitting a different type of ray instead.” 

 

“Hmm,” Natasha studied the data again, intrigued by the prospect of discovering a new type of radiation, “They’re not as strong as gamma rays, either. It’s an intermediate between ionizing and non-ionizing radiation. Hey, what if we call it gamma ray?” 

 

“Gamma?” 

 

“The next letter in the greek alphabet after alpha and beta.” Natasha shrugged, “it makes sense.” 

 

“Fine, let’s call it a gamma ray.” 

 

“Alright, Nobel Prize, here we come!” 

 

Howard smiled, “Assuming we can publish any of the work we did here.” 

 

Steve strolled in with Peggy, who left immediately after escorting him to the two engineers, shooting odd looks at Natasha the whole time. “Hey, guys. Heard you have somethin’ for me to try on before the missions.” 

 

“Hi, Steve. Nice to see you again.” Natasha greeted him fondly. As if on cue, Steve blushed charmingly as he greeted her back, stuttering out how nice it was to see her too. Howard rolled his eyes at them, jumping straight to business. 

 

“Heya, Cap. Sure we do, take a look at this.” he moved to a piece of cloth lying on one of the tables in the lab, “Carbon polymer. Should be able to withstand your average German bayonet. Although Hydra’s not going to attack you with a pocket knife.” 

 

They moved along to the collection of shield prototypes Howard and his engineers had made up for Steve, “I hear you’re uh… kinda attached?” Howard knock on the battered USO shield Steve used on the rescue mission. 

 

“It’s handier than you might think.” Steve conceded. He was a little sad that his trusty shield was banged up from the previous fight with the Red Skull. 

 

“I took the liberty of coming up with some options.” Howard said proudly. He showed Steve some of the prototypes he made, “This one’s fun. She’s been fitted with electrical relays. It’ll allow you to…” 

 

But Steve spotted a round shield tucked in the bottom of the worktable and raised it up. It was far more interesting and suitable for him than any of the other ones Howard was showing to him. Somehow, Steve felt an immediate connection to this piece of metal. “What about this one?”

 

“No! No! That’s just a prototype.” 

 

“Well, aren’t these all prototypes?” Steve gestured around, “it’s light. What’s it made of?” 

 

“It’s called Vibranium, love.” Natasha explained, “It’s stronger than steel and a third of the weight. It’s completely vibration absorbent.” 

 

“Amazing.” Steve moved the shield around, testing how maneuverable it would be in battle, “how come it’s not standard issue?” 

 

“The Army would have gone bankrupt if this was standard issue. No amount of bonds you can sell would cover the cost of buying Vibranium.” Natasha laughed, “That’s the rarest metal on earth. What you’re holding there? That’s all we’ve got.” 

 

“It’s great.” Steve said, holding up the shield in front of him like a knight in the stories Natasha read as a child. Natasha imagined Siegfried, the noble and brave knight of the Nibelungenlied, would have looked as majestic and regal as Steve was at this moment. 

 

_ My Siegfried. The Valiant Dragon Slayer.  _

 

“What do you think, Tasha?” Steve asked, posing with the shield covering his torso and placing his free hand on his hips. 

 

“You look very handsome and noble, _mein_ _liebling_.” Steve blushed at her compliment, looking pleased and bashful at the same time. She heard Howard gagging in the background but decided on ignoring him in favor of lavishing attention and praises at Steve. 

 

Peggy came back in the lab to fetch Steve for his next appointment with Colonel Phillips for mission briefings and found the man holding circular shield, laughing and joking with Natasha as if he never betrayed her, never kissed another woman behind her back. Ire rising up, Peggy interrupted their bantering, “You quite finished, Starks? I’m sure the Captain has some unfinished business.”

 

“Hey, Peggy,” Steve called on her. “What do you think?” 

 

The nerve of the man. 

 

Peggy grabbed a gun from the table, cocked it then aimed shots at the shield in Steve’s direction. Steve immediately held Natasha to him, hiding them behind the shield and Howard cowered in the background, trying to block the deafening sound of the gun shots by placing his hands over his ears. 

 

Steve and Natasha peeked out of the shield after she finished emptying the cartridge on the shield, staring at her in bewilderment. “Yeah, I think it’ll work.” she said simply, before leaving the three of them stunned and speechless. 

 

As she left she heard Natasha’s asked, “Steve, what did you do?” and a small vindictive smile spread across Peggy’s crimson lips. 

 

\--------    
  


“What?! Some random broad kissed you?! Kissed you! She just went up to you and planted one on you! What the fuck!” As expected, Natasha was incensed when Steve finally told her what had happened this morning. She had been ranting and raving for the last twenty minutes, pacing back and forth in their small room in the barracks. Technically, it was her room, but Steve wasn’t planning on staying even one night apart from her so he would be sneaking in to her room each night and sneak back out before morning roll call. 

 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I should have handled it better.” Steve said despondently. 

 

“What?” she whipped around to stare at him, “I’m not mad at you, darling. I’m mad at the woman who thought it was okay to put her hands anywhere on a person without their express consent. Honestly, where was she raised, in a cave?” Natasha grubled and sat next to him on their bed, ranting and raving seemed to be done for the moment. 

 

“She’s American, so yes, a cave. Just like I was.” Steve joked, trying to lighten the mood. Natasha snorted and bumped her shoulder with his, “Don’t try to make me laugh, I’m still upset.” 

 

“I know.” Steve wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, “I promise I won’t say anything if you want to prank her.” 

 

“That’s the best thing you’ve said all day,” Natasha tilted her head up and kissed him, “gotta erase whatever she put on you.” then kissed him again, and again, and again until they fell back on the bed. 

 

“I only enjoy your kisses,” Steve whispered. 

 

“Good,” she leaned down again. They spent long moments just kissing each other and enjoying the presence and the feeling of each other’s bodies against their own. 

 

“Was that why Peggy was so pissed at you?” Natasha asked again once they broke apart, fingers idly caressing Steve’s blond hair.

 

Steve nodded, “She saw the Private kissed me, and wouldn’t even give me a chance to explain what happened. At least she let me explain everything to you.”

 

“Ole Pegs, always looking out for me.” Natasha said wistfully, “thank you for telling me, Steve. I don’t blame you for what happened. Don’t worry.” 

 

Steve kissed her again, relieved that he hadn’t managed to ruin his first (and only) relationship. “Hey, do you know if Howard and Peggy are...you know…” Steve made a vague hand gesture meant to approximate sexual tryst. 

 

Natasha stared at him blankly, not comprehending what he was trying to say, “If they’re what?” 

 

“You know...fondue…” Steve whispered surreptitiously. 

 

“Fondue?” Natasha looked bewildered. Why would Howard and Peggy be eating bread and melted cheese?

 

“Yeah, fondue. Like what we did this morning.” 

 

“We did fondue? But, Steve, we had pancakes for breakfast.” Natasha was a genius, but this conversation was more confusing. And she understood quantum mechanics. 

 

“What? No, not breakfast. Before breakfast. What are you talking about?” 

 

“What are  _ you  _ talking about?!” 

 

“Fondue! You know, the euphemism for having sex.” Steve insisted.  

 

“What?!”

 

“Isn’t that what fondue is?” 

 

“Honey, fondue is bread and melted cheese. It’s food.” 

 

“Oh…” it dawned on Steve that he’s been misinterpreting what Howard said as an invitation to eat as an invitation to fornicate, “well, now I feel like a schmuck.”

 

Natasha laughed uproariously, “Oh my God, you actually thought fondue was a euphemism for sex. You’re so precious.” 

 

Steve pouted, “I’m learning, okay. I’m just a destitute skinny kid from Brooklyn. I don’t know all the fancy schmancy food you rich people eat on a daily basis.” 

 

“Well, now you can have fondue on a daily basis,” Natasha kissed his cheek, grinning mischievously, “if you’re not out on a mission, that is. Don’t be having fondue with anyone else, okay?” 

 

“Wouldn’t taste or feel as good.” Steve kissed her and slowly lowered Natasha to the bed. Steve was hungry, and some fondue sounded good right about now. Natasha’s content smile and pleased sighs as he made love to her would be etched in his memory for a long time. 


	6. All of my goodness is going with you now

Steve and the Howling Commandos went on mission after mission dismantling the HYDRA factories he identified on the map. They systematically went and destroyed each and every factory, rendering them useless, and raided the facility, bringing back with them an astounding amount of HYDRA weapons powered by the Tesseract for Howard, Natasha and their teams to study. 

 

They were making good progress on the mission, significantly hampering Schmidt’s progress in weaponizing the rest of the German troops with his special weapons. All of this, plus the success of the Russians in thwarting the movement of the German troops on the Eastern front and the plans to storm France by retaking the beaches of Normandy, meant that the tides of wars are turning for the Allied Forces. 

 

The British finally deployed the codebreaker machine Natasha and Turing worked on, significantly getting an edge on the Germans. The island hopping strategy employed in the Pacific War theater was also paying off. The Allied forces managed to drive back Japanese forces from strategic strongholds in the Pacific. The end of the war looked near. 

  
  
  


 

Natasha walked back to her room in the barracks feeling paranoid and out of sorts. For the past few days, she felt like someone has been watching her every move. She was uncomfortable in her own skin, continuously feeling someone’s eyes on her and needing to look over her shoulder, expecting some HYDRA assassin to jump out of the woodwork to attack her. 

 

She had even taken to sleep with a gun underneath her pillows. With Steve away on missions, she had to spend her nights alone. If she could manage it, she would sometimes opt to stay in lab. It had reinforced steel doors and someone was always working there. If she fell asleep on one of the cots they had over there, she wouldn’t be alone and if anything happen it would be easier to trigger the alarm if she were in lab. 

 

Today was no exception. Steve and the Howling Commandos were away on another mission. They intercepted a communique about another weapons production facilities, this one was in a location that wasn’t included in the map Steve gleaned during the initial rescue mission. Their absence left her, Peggy and Howard on the base along with Colonel Phillips, his aides and other scientists. Along with them, a platoon of one hundred or so men were stationed there as auxiliary security forces and other supporting personnel. The presence of Captain America and his Howling Commandos led the Army to believe that the SSR headquarters were well-guarded as they were. 

 

Natasha reached her room, entering and immediately locking the door behind her. She went for her bed, kneeling down to pull out the army issue cargo case she kept in her room. She had kept the presence of this particular item a secret from everyone, including Steve. And don’t think that hasn’t caused her some pain. But what she had here was dangerous, and if Steve knew of the existence of these items, he’d be even more of a target that he already was. 

 

The cargo case was filled with items from her childhood, pictures of her late parents, a copy of her dissertation, all the letters Steve ever sent her, the amber earring that matched the pendant that was now in Steve’s possession and a second journal, identical to the one that she carried around with her all the time. 

 

This second journal was the source of her trepidation and her paranoia. The contents of this journal was identical to the one currently in her possession, except for one big difference. In this journal, the correct schematic and design for the Tesseract stabilizer was laid out. In the one she carried around, the Tesseract stabilizer design was flawed, catastrophically so that if Schmidt or Zola tried to use it to harness more and more energy from the Tesseract, it would malfunction and triggered a powerful explosion that would easily bring down one of their facilities. 

 

Natasha knew they were after her and after her designs. They must have realized that whatever they stole from her father’s lab was subpar and wouldn’t be enough to achieve his aim to weaponize the whole German Army with this magical weapon. Schmidt was a pragmatic man. If he couldn’t bring her back into the HYDRA fold, then he would just bring her  _ works _ and her  _ ideas _ back to the fold, regardless of her presence there. Which meant anytime soon now, an assassin would be sent to eliminate her, just like they did with Dr. Erskine. 

 

Dr. Erskine’s super serum formula died with him. And Natasha would make sure that the secret to utilizing the Tesseract die with her. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. The world would never be truly safe if such a power like the Tesseract was allowed to be utilized. She purposefully made two journals: one with the correct design to leave with Steve for him to do as he saw fit, and another with the flawed design that she would make sure fall in HYDRA’s hands, a makeshift Trojan horse that would allow her to destroy them even after she’s gone. 

 

Natasha had come to terms with the inevitability of her death. After all it was one of the only two constants in life. She had foolishly believe that she could evade HYDRA forever, lay low until the war was over, and she would be able to resume her life as an academic, maybe get a teaching position in some liberal arts college in New England away from all the drama of big city living. But Erskine’s assassination told her otherwise. It sent a message that she was never truly safe. No matter where she would go, or hide, they would always find her. 

Meeting a small, skinny, handsome and courageous man named Steve at the World Expo turned her world upside down. She fell in love with him so fast, it made her head spin. Meeting him felt like discovering a part of herself she didn’t even know was missing, only when she finally came face to face with him did she realize,  _ oh here you are. I’ve been looking for you my whole life. _ Steve was so good, so brave and a bright light in the empty darkness that had long been her life. He gave her a purpose, a sense of belonging, and knowledge that she wasn’t alone in this world. That Steve would always support her, always be in her corner and she in his. They were good together, and if only they had more time together, they would have been invincible. 

 

Natasha wasn’t one to give in to flights of fancy. Before, she would have never said that she and Steve were destined for each other, fated to meet one way or another, be it at a random street corner, or perhaps on another day where the only thing they have to do was fall in love with each other over a cup of coffee. 

 

But now, she knew in her heart of hearts that they were inseparable. In whatever universe where there was Steve, there would be Natasha. It would be different incarnations of their own selves but when they meet, one way or another, they would fall into each other, recognizing a counterpart, someone that completes them in the other. 

 

Natasha took out a sheaf of paper and started writing. She wasn’t good with words, but she had to try this time, it would be the last letter she would be sending to Steve after all. 

 

\--------

 

“Well, that was a complete waste of time!” Bucky grumbled as he trudged all the way back to the  _ rendesvouz _ point from his perch at the vantage point. “An empty warehouse. They sent us all the way over here to scope out an empty warehouse.” 

 

Steve frowned in consternation, something about this whole mission didn’t sit well with him. From the way the intel abruptly came to Colonel Phillips via intercepted messages to the fact that they were greeted with a whole lot of nothing when they arrived at the target site, just an empty warehouse that used to be a HYDRA facility, and the fact that the warehouse was uncomfortably close to the SSR headquarters in continental Europe where they’re being stationed at right now. 

 

“Let’s head back,” Steve commanded his men, “something doesn’t feel right about this.”

 

They started walking back, Steve leading the rank and walking at a faster pace than his men were comfortable with. They were panting and huffing trying to keep up with him, and Bucky had to tell him to “slow it down, buckaroo! Not all of us have super stamina!” 

 

Halfway back, they managed to get reception back in their radio. Morita clamoring that they’re back on the grid and could get messages in and out now. That was another point of contention for Steve. Their communicator and radio were the best in the world, designed by Howard and Natasha Stark themselves. It was impervious to any signal dampening or sabotaging efforts, so how did it ever manage to lose contact with base? Unless base itself cut off the communication lines, which was unthinkable when they were on a mission. 

 

“Jim, radio in. Check in with base, brief them on our situation and tell them we’re heading back.” 

 

“Aye, aye, Cap’n.” Morita set about to do what he commanded, radioing in with the base and updating them on their mission status. The reply he got back shocked the Commandos, to say the least.

 

“Commandos, come in, commandos! Oh thank God, you’re back on the grid. We were under attack! HYDRA forces stormed our base!” 

 

Steve and the rest of the Commandos went on high alert. Steve started running, sprinting across the forest in an effort to get to the base faster. Steve knew he was leaving the rest of Commandos but he couldn’t find it in himself to spare a thought to unit formation and cohesion. He had to get back, he had to get to Natasha. The amber pendant he wore around his neck suddenly felt heavy and pressing against his chest. His father’s compass, the one with Natasha’s picture on the cover, burned a hole in his pocket, pointing to his true north. He had to get to her, and he had to get back fast. 

 

Steve burst through the forest near the SSR HQ, shocked and terrified at the scene before him. The headquarters was in disarray, smoke billowing out of buildings, fire still raging on different parts of the complex. Men were running around trying to put out the fire. Some of these men had bruises and and bloodstains on their uniform, but no open wounds. 

 

When they saw Steve, a look of relief crossed their face and they called out to him, “Captain!” 

 

“What happened?” Steve demanded. 

 

“We don’t know, Sir. We were just patrolling around the perimeter, when all of a sudden a loud explosion rocked the ground, HYDRA soldiers started swarming in the base. We managed to fight some of them off, though some escaped.” 

 

“Where’s Colonel Phillips? Agent Carter? What about the Starks?” 

 

“They’re fine, sir. We saw them earlier. Colonel Phillips and Agent Carter fought with us. The Starks too.” 

 

Howard and Natasha fought too? God, Steve prayed fervently that they’re okay.

 

“Where are they now?” 

 

“In the infirmary, Sir, helping the wounded.” 

 

“Thanks,” Steve made to leave the men, before something that’s been eating away at him ever since he saw the soldiers refused to be ignored, “hey, you two were in the fight, but I don’t see a scratch on you. How did that happen?” 

 

The soldiers were wide eyed at his question, looking at each other before answering, “You wouldn’t believe us if we told you, Sir.” 

 

“Try me,” Steve crossed his arms in front of his chest, emphasizing his large biceps.

 

“It-- It was Ms. Stark, Sir. She healed us.” one of the soldiers whispered out, “she put her hand on my shoulder, and it was bleeding Sir, but when she lifted up her hand again, the wound was closed. She did the same thing for Kent here.” 

 

“She healed the cuts on my face from the grenade blowbacks.” the soldier, Kent, nodded fervently. 

 

Natasha healed them...at the expense of exposing her secrets, she chose to heal other people, sacrificing her own safety. How many people has she healed? 

 

“Who else did she heal? Just the two of you?”

 

“No, Sir.” they shook their heads, “everyone on base.” 

 

Everyone on base knew of Natasha’s powers now. What was Natasha thinking, healing everybody on the compound, risking her own life, her own safety? 

 

Steve thanked them and sprinted on his way to the infirmary. As he left the two soldiers behind, he heard the rest of the Commandos finally caught up with him, huffing and panting as they walked out of the forest. 

 

When he reached the infirmary, it was crowded. Men were laid up on the beds, groaning and whimpering in pain. Some people were wounded, but many were well enough to help the medics deliver treatment and medicine to their fellow soldiers. Steve spotted Peggy and Howard on one of the corners of the room, Peggy applying a bandage on Howard’s forehead. But Natasha was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Peggy! Howard!” he strode over to them, relieved to see them unhurt, “you guys okay?” 

 

Peggy nodded, “Just a scratch. Would have been more if--”

 

“Natasha healed you?” 

 

Peggy looked bewildered, “Yes. How did you know?” 

 

“I tell you some other time. Where is she?” 

 

“I told her to get some rest. She insisted on healing everyone on base. She was looking a bit pale in the end.” 

 

“Alright, thanks Peggy!” Steve rushed back out of the infirmary and to Natasha’s room. There were droplets of blood on the floor, leading all the way back to their room. Steve hastened his strides, walking faster to reach their room. When he got there, he immediately burst through the door, expecting to see Natasha sleeping  or just sitting on the bed, anxious and upset that she had to rest and couldn’t do more to help more of the wounded. 

 

What he saw was neither of those things. Natasha was collapsed, face down on the floor, a pool of blood underneath her. She seemed to be in the midst of reaching the bed, the quilt covering their bed was pulled down by her blood soaked hands, resting on the floor beside her. 

 

“Tasha…” Steve’s whole body froze at the sight. His heart was racing and there was a pit in his stomach, gaping and empty, an overwhelming sense of dread welled up within him. It couldn’t be…

 

“Natasha, sweetheart,” Steve finally found the strength to move his feet, knelt down and lifted her body into his arms. Her eyes were closed, she looked just like she was sleeping, a sight Steve saw every morning when he first opened his eyes. Any moment now, she would be opening her eyes, greeting Steve with a warm smile and even warmer gaze. “Sweetheart, wake up. It’s the middle of day, you can’t be sleeping, sleepyhead.” 

 

Steve heard himself speaking and his voice sounded wrong, his throat clogged up with sobs and gasps he refused to let out. Because none of this make sense, why would he be crying? Natasha was just sleeping. “Natasha, come on, wake up, sweetheart. Please...please…” 

 

Behind him, he heard a gasp. Peggy. He sensed more people joining her, Bucky, Howard, his Commandos. But he couldn’t pay them any mind. 

 

Natasha’s body was cold and limp in his arms, he strained his ears to hear the beat of her heart but no matter how close he held her body to his, he couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t feel the warmth she used to emanate. He grasped her cold hands in his warm hands bringing it up to his lips in an effort to elicit a reaction, but of course she didn’t return his grasps or react to his touch. She was cold now, everything around Steve was cold. Nothing in his life would ever bring any semblance of warmth or passion ever again. 

 

Peggy was openly crying behind him. Her choked gasps and sobs highlighting the gravity of the situation. Bucky and Howard looked stricken in shock. The Commandos were speechless. Steve couldn’t do anything but curled up around the dead body of his beloved. Tears started to stream down his face, droplets of tears staining Natasha’s slack and lifeless face. 

 

He failed. Steve failed her. He promised he would protect her, but he left her alone, foolishly believing she was under the protections of the SSR and the Army. But now she was gone, taken away from him too soon. Taken away before they even had a chance to build a life together, to realize all their hopes and dreams for a future together. And now, he lost his reason for living, his life’s purpose, and Steve felt himself falling deeper in despair. “Please don’t leave me…” 

 

They buried Natasha a week later. The corporal who lowered her casket to the ground gave him the American flag that was covering her casket, Steve her grieving widower. Steve hasn't said a word since the day she died. He didn’t say a word during the funeral, he didn’t give a eulogy. He was numb. All he wanted to do was get inside her casket, and ask them to lower the two of them together. 

 

Natasha might be the only buried that day, but in truth, two people died the day she was shot down. 


	7. Remember me love, when I'm reborn

Natasha might have shared Howard’s last name, but she named Steve her next of kin. Which meant that all of her personal belongings were now his. They showed him her work station, her lab notebooks and told him he would be allowed to take all of her personal effects. Her lab notebooks were Army and SSR property, along with whatever she worked on. Steve could care less for those things. For all intents and purposes, those projects killed her. HYDRA wanted her inventions and her designs. She wouldn’t surrender so they killed her. 

 

Steve collected Natasha’s personal belongings from her workstation, taking with him the physics and engineering textbooks and her assortment of tools. Steve stopped short when he saw that there was a picture of him, from his pre-serum days, framed on the desk. She loved him unfalteringly, unconditionally. And he failed her. 

 

He couldn’t protect her when it counted, when it mattered. What good was he if he couldn’t even protect the most important person in his life, the love of his life? Why does he have this power if he couldn’t use when it mattered the most? So far, he had failed Dr. Erskine and Natasha. Would there be more people felled by his incompetence, his inability to do what was right? 

 

It hurt. Somehow, this hurt more than when Ma died. Steve thought he was alone when Ma died, but the creeping loneliness and the cold emptiness he felt right now was more profound than anything he felt after burying Ma. 

 

With trembling hands, Steve picked up the framed photograph and added it to his pile of Natasha’s personal belonging to keep. It was the only part of her he could hold any longer. 

 

Back in their room, Steve placed the items on the desk. He rummaged through his pockets for the stuff he pocketed from the lab, and in his haste one of the items fell to the floor and roll under the bed. Steve sighed and knelt down to retrieve it, patting the floor for it until his fingertips touched on something that he didn’t expect to be there. 

 

It felt like a box, something sturdy. Steve peered inside and sure enough there was big trunk tucked under their bed. Steve hadn’t felt any emotion other than despondency and melancholy ever since the funeral, but for some reason, he felt compelled right now to get inside and pull that box out, investigate what was inside. It might be Natasha’s, and would provide him another piece of her to hold on to. 

 

The box was an army issue cargo case, emblazoned on top was the words “Property of Natasha M. Stark”. It was heavy, but for Steve’s super strength it was of no concern. As he opened it, he found even more of Natasha’s personal effects. There were pictures of her family, the Scholls, the three of them posed stoically for the camera. There was a picture of Natasha as a little girl, a tomboy wearing a jumpsuit holding a wrench and a screwdriver, with the remains of a dissected cuckoo clock in front of her. The picture brought a smile to his face, at least Natasha had a happy childhood no matter how brief it would be. 

 

The case also contained blueprints, design schematics, research notes. The writings and mathematical equations on them were things that Steve couldn’t hope to decipher. There was her diploma from MIT also in the case, an identifying document designating her as Natasha Magdalena Stark, asylum paperworks, all the letters Steve ever sent her, his sketches, both the silly caricature ones to the portraits he’d done of her mixed in among her treasured possessions.  And finally, Steve spotted her brown leather bound journal with an envelope addressed to him clipped on to it. 

 

Steve picked up the journal, feeling confused and out of sorts. The preliminary reports on her death stated that Natasha died from internal bleeding on injuries sustained from a bullet wound to her stomach. She exacerbated her injuries by going on to heal almost everyone on base, leading to fatalistic blood loss and death, her journal was nowhere to be found on her person. The consensus by the MPs investigating her death was that HYDRA assassins killed her for the possession of her journal, as they believe she had knowledge that would further the HYDRA mission to empower the Axis. 

 

If her journal was in HYDRA’s hands, then what was this one? Had she have two journals all this time? 

 

With unsure hands, Steve plucked the envelope addressed to him and opened it, hoping it would give him some explanation to this new revelation. Inside there was a neatly folded paper with Natasha’s handwriting all over it. Another letter, the last letter she wrote to him. Steve closed his eyes, overwhelmed by grief again. A letter prepared beforehand meant she knew, or at least anticipated, her death to come. Was there ever anything that he could have done to prevent this? 

 

_ My Steve,  _

 

_ If by some miracle I made it through this war alive, you won’t ever be reading this letter or even find this journal. They would be relegated to the fireplace at the Brooklyn apartment we would be living in right now. But if you are reading this letter, that means I’m gone. I’m sorry, love. I never wanted it to be this way, I don’t want to leave you but I have to.  _

 

_ You must have questions, and I will try my best to answer them in this letter. There are two journals, one that HYDRA will have undoubtedly pried from my cold dead hands, and the one in your possessions. I made two journals for the express purpose of tricking them to build a rigged version of the Tesseract stabilizer, one that would malfunction and backfire on them the more they use it. Considered it as my own parting gift to the organization that killed my parents but in a twisted way brought you into my life.  _

 

_ The journal in your possession contains the correct design, my love. I will defer to your judgement on whether to inform the SSR and the Army to disclose its existence. The ability to control and handle the Tesseract are ones that I fear humans are still unsuited for. The Tesseract represents great sustainable and unending power. Studying the Tesseract, learning everything about it for the sole purpose of providing the world with sustainable energy would be the best use of my designs.  _

 

_ But imagine power like that in the hands of anyone who has even the slightest inclination to subjugate others. Imagine the destruction that could be wrought, the wars that would be fought in the future after further exploration and studies on the Tesseract. It would make the death and destruction we have seen thus far comparable to a street fight. It would transform our wars to a higher form of war, one that I fear no one could survive. I have little faith in my fellow human beings, other than you of course. I trust you would make the right decisions on my behalf, Steve.  _

 

_ Steve, please don’t blame yourself. My death wasn’t through any fault of yours. It’s been a long time coming, I knew of it. When news of Dr. Erskine reached me, I knew that I would be next. I just didn’t know when the exact moment would be, but I knew it was coming. You gave me such happiness and peace in this tumultuous life. I will cherish your love forever and ever.  _

 

_ If I were to be reborn, Steve, I want to finally have a chance to spend the rest of my days with you. To build a life together and to love each other without consequence. If we were to be reborn, I will find you and you would find me and we would remember each other on a deep, visceral, instinctive level born from two souls recognizing its counterpart.  _

 

_ I’m with you always. Because I carry your heart with me, Steve. I carry it in my heart.   _

 

_ I couldn’t separate myself from you, anymore than you could part from me. This separation won’t last forever. We’ll see each other again, soon.  _

 

_ We will be together again, my love. This I promise you.  _

_ All my love,  _

_ Natasha  _

  
  


Tears streamed down his face without his consent. Natasha’s parting words, her last messages, absolved him of his crimes. She knew death was coming her way, hid it from him in a misguided attempt to protect him and his heart from feeling the guilt of failing to protect her. 

 

She believed in him, she believed in them. They would meet again someday, Steve had to trust in that. But now, Steve had a job to finish, to eradicate HYDRA and its sinister machinations from this world and to avenge her. 

 

Steve would take up the mantle of her avenging angel, full of wrath and self righteous anger. He would be the First Avenger. 

 

\--------

 

Clouded by grief and desperation, Steve’s supposedly final mission to stop HYDRA by attacking their supply lines cost them Bucky. Another loss for the Commandos and another failure for Steve. 

 

Two deaths now. Two deaths on his head, his best friend and his greatest love, both ripped away from this world because Steve was too consumed by anger, too blinded by grief, to stop and think clearly about the mission. His single minded fervor to avenge Natasha cost him Bucky, caused his brother to plunge into the icy embrace of a snow covered cliff. 

 

If he wasn’t hesitant before, he was more convinced now that he should be eating the barrel of his gun before he cost the death of anymore people around him. He was a liability now. It would be the best thing he could do to ensure the success of the SSR’s missions. 

 

Peggy found him, sitting morosely in the bombed out remains of the bar they went to that night that seemed so long ago. When he saw Natasha again after one year of separation, when everything was right in his world. He had been trying in vain to get drunk, to numb himself from the gnawing pit of grief that was opening up further within him, swallowing what was left of his soul to its gaping maw. He clutched desperately at the amber pendant, the only thing rooting him to this world, a reminder that he wasn’t finished yet. 

“Dr. Erskine said that… the serum wouldn’t just affect my muscles, it would effect my cells. Create a protective system of regeneration and healing. Which means um…I can’t get drunk. Did you know that?” he asked despondently. 

 

“Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person. He thought it could be one of the side effects.” Peggy nodded, observing him patiently. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

 

“Did you read the reports?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Then you know that’s not true.” Steve took a long gulp straight from the bottle, knowing it wouldn’t affect him in the least but just needing an excuse to gather his thoughts, “Tasha’s death. Bucky’s death. Everything was my fault. If only I was strong enough…” 

 

“You did everything you could.” Peggy insisted, “Did you believe in Natasha, in Barnes? Did you respect them?” Steve shot her a look. How could she ask something like this? She, more than anyone, knew the depth of his feelings for Natasha.  

 

“Then stop blaming yourself. Allow them the dignity of their choices. I know damn well Natasha thought you were worth it. You were her entire world. And he must have thought so too.” 

 

Steve looked down at the pendant, pondering Peggy’s words. He had one last chance, one more try to bring a stop to everything. “I’m goin’ after Schmidt. I’m not gonna stop till all of Hydra is dead or captured.” 

 

“You won’t be alone.” she placed a hand on his shoulder. The weight of her convictions and her strength in the face of such losses encouraging Steve. He was grateful for Peggy, she had been a great friend to him. In another world where Natasha didn’t exist, they might have been good together. But as soon as that thought crossed his mind, Steve dismissed it. If there was ever a world where Natasha didn’t exist, Steve wouldn’t have existed either. It was moot point, no use in mulling over what was and what could have been. They had a mission to complete. 

 

\--------

 

The plan worked. Natasha’s trojan horse successfully dismantled the HYDRA facility. It went up in flames destroying it, taking down many HYDRA soldiers and weapons with it, burning it down to cinders and reducing HYDRA’s legacy to ashes. Good riddance. 

 

His plan to storm into the HYDRA facility and take on Schmidt worked. He managed to escape on the Valkyrie, but Steve didn’t give up, giving chase with Colonel Phillips and Peggy’s help, stowing himself away in the plane’s cargo hold. There were atomic weapons, designated for each major cities in the United States’ Eastern seaboard. New York City among them. Steve felt his hackles raised at the thought of his beloved city targeted by the Red Skull. There was no way he would let that happen. 

 

Steve started to disable the fighter planes, and once that was done, made his way up to the cockpit for one last fight with his archenemy, the man responsible for so many losses in his life. 

 

“You don’t give up, do you?” the Red Skull sneered. 

 

“Nope!” 

 

They fought, hard and viciously. Steve channeling all his grief, rage, anger, sadness, and desperation to every punch he landed, every kick he delivered. He hated him. He hated Schmidt. He took Natasha away from him, took Bucky away from him, and was now planning on taking everyone else’s world away from them. 

 

“You could have the power of the gods! Yet you wear a flag on your chest and think you fight a battle of nations! I have seen the future, Captain! There are no flags!” he boasted, showing that great hubris he seemed to possess, amplified by the imperfect serum flowing in his veins. 

 

“Not my future!” Steve retorted back. He lost patience and seek to end the fight now. He flung his shield at the Red Skull, knocking him backwards towards the Tesseract. Natasha had told him how despite being unusually stable, slight disturbance to the molecular surface of the Tesseract was capable of eliciting a great burst of energy. Pushing the Red Skull would cause some damage to say the least. 

 

The Tesseract was released from the stabilizer, causing Schmidt to panic. “What have you done?!” he picked it up, sufficiently disrupting the cube and triggered by it, a great burst of energy emanated from the cube. Steve watched in astonishment as a giant void started to appear behind the Red Skull, created by the Tesseract. A tendril of blue energy slithered out from the void, grabbing the Red Skull, whisking him away into space, the man screaming all the way. 

 

Then just as fast as it appeared, the void closed, leaving Steve and the Tesseract in the Valkyrie. The cube burned through the steel railings of the cockpit and all the way to the bottom of the airplane, falling far far away into the ocean, hidden away from human hands and their misguided attempts to utilize it. 

 

Steve then took over the plane’s controls, the navigation screen showed its direction as heading to New York City. He tried in vain to reverse course or change the coordinates to somewhere safer to land the plane before he realized that the navigation system was damaged during his fight with the Red Skull. There was no other way around it then, Steve had to put the plane in the water and himself with it.

 

He leaned back in the pilot’s chair, accepting the inevitable. He took out his compass and opened it, Natasha’s beautiful face staring back at him. He traced a finger reverently over the picture, “I’ll be with you soon, my love.” 

 

He tried the radio one last time, hoping the base would pick up his transmission, “Come in. This is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?” 

 

Morita answered him, “Captain Rogers, what is your…” before Steve heard him being shoved to the side and Peggy’s voice replaced him. “Steve, is that you? Are you alright?” 

 

“Peggy. Schmidt’s dead.” 

 

“What about the plane?” 

 

Steve looked around the empty plane, empty except for the atomic bombs it was carrying to the East Coast, “That’s a bit harder to explain.”

 

“Give me your coordinates, I’ll find you a safe landing site.” 

 

“There’s not gonna be a safe landing. I’m gonna try and force it down.”

 

“I’ll get Howard on the line, he’ll know what to do.” Peggy said again, her voice frantic. 

 

“There’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York.” Steve inhaled deeply before saying his next words, “I gotta put her in the water.”

 

“Please, don’t do this. We have time. We can work it out.” Steve thought he heard Peggy’s voice breaking a little. 

 

“Right now I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die. Peggy, this is my choice.” Steve told her, “Peggy?” 

 

“I’m here.” 

 

Steve thought of what to say to her. This woman who had been a great friend for both him and Natasha. He thought about how she would fare after everything was said and done. But Steve had no worries for her. Peggy was strong, stronger than him. She would bounce back, rebuild her life, and maybe she would think fondly of him and Natasha once she finished mourning. “Thanks for everything.” then Steve disconnected the radio. He wanted some silence before the inevitable. 

 

As he looked outside to the skies beyond the cockpit, he thought of how unafraid he felt in his last moments. He took out the amber pendant from its safekeeping place in one of the pouches of his utility belt and looped it around his neck, taking comfort in having a piece of Natasha with him in his final hour. 

 

Suddenly the warmth that he never thought he’d ever feel again surround him, enveloping him. It felt like someone wrapped an arm around his shoulders, providing him safe haven, a place to lay his head on. It felt the way it would feel when Natasha healed his wounds, fixed the broken and sore parts of his body with a touch of her hands. 

 

A beloved voice whispered in his ears.  _ Rest, Steve. I’m with you now.  _

 

Steve closed his eyes, comforted by her touch and her presence. The plane dove faster to the ground. There was a loud crash, and everything ceased to be.

 

\-------- 

 

Heaven felt a lot like a recovery room in an SSR barracks. Or maybe it was hell. Steve had  never been that good of a Catholic boy to begin with, what with his secret desire and attraction to both men and dames. He confided this fact in Natasha before, and to his great relief she took no issue in it. Telling Steve that you couldn’t help who you love. Love was love was love. 

 

The radio was playing a game that he remembered with great clarity. It was a game from 1941, he, Bucky and everyone else in the complex huddled around the only radio set in the whole tenement complex to listen to it. Why would it be playing now? Was it a set up to lull him to a false sense of security? 

 

A woman entered the room. It wasn’t Natasha, in fact she was the furthest thing from Natasha with her extremely done up face, all rouged up and spiffed up. So he was still alive then. If he was dead, he had hoped God would be merciful enough to finally let them be together. The fact that she still wasn’t here reinforced the fact that somehow he had survived the plane crash. Pitiful. 

 

“Good morning.” the woman greeted, then looked down at her watch. “Or should I say, afternoon?”

 

“Where am I?” Steve asked. 

 

“You’re in a recovery room in New York city.” she affected a calm and collected answer, but her racing heartbeat betrayed her. She was nervous for some reason. 

 

“Where am I really?” Steve questioned her again. The old game playing on the radio, her nervousness and the wrongness of the whole situation put him on edge. Has he fallen into the hands of the enemy after his plane crash? 

 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” she said again.

 

“The game, it’s from May, nineteen forty one. I know, cause I was there.” Steve stood up from the bed, towering over her. He relished the look of fear he gleaned from her widening pupils and the way her heart rate kicked up, “Now, I’m gonna ask you again. Where am I?”

 

“Captain Rogers…” she discreetly pressed the silent alarm she had been carrying with her. 

 

“Who are you?” just as soon as Steve bellowed out the question, two men in black uniforms brandishing a weapon burst into the room. Good, Steve had been itching for a fight since the moment he woke up.

 

He easily defeated them, tossing them through the wall, which happened to be a fake, makeshift wall camouflaging him from the rest of the world. Steve ran through the building, looking for a way out. As he ran through the building, he took note of the way it was constructed. All glass and steel. So different from the buildings he was used to. What was going on? Why did everything look so strange?

 

Steve burst out onto the street and started running in a random direction, hoping to shake off his pursuers. As he ran through the streets, more things started to look familiar and strange at the same time. It looked like New York, it really did, but it was more crowded. There were more lights, people were dressed strangely. He ran in the direction of Times Square, hoping someone there could clue him in on what happened. Was the war over? If it was, then there surely would be people gathered there. Ma once told him that was where everyone gathered when the armistice was signed to mark the end of the Great War. 

 

Times Square was different from how he remembered it. There were lights, huge screens that seemed to be advertising something. But it was different from the usual ads Steve would see. The ads would change colors, change texts, it was moving around. There were symbols for companies Steve never even heard of. Steve was so close to grabbing someone and asking them what the hell was going on before a fleet of black cars stopped him in his tracks. 

 

“At ease, soldier!” a man called out. Steve turned around to see a Black man in a black trench coat and an eye patch marching towards him. He seemed like someone with great authority. “Look, I’m sorry about that little show back there, but… we thought it best to break it to you slowly.” 

 

“Break what?” Steve husked out. He was overwhelmed, scared and confused. Nothing he was seeing or hearing was making a lick of sense. 

 

“You’ve been asleep, Cap. For almost seventy years.” What?

 

“You gonna be okay?” the man asked again.

 

If there was a fate worse than death, then Steve seemed to have found it. “You should have left me where you found me.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Part 1.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D
> 
> Also, does anyone know when Steve got defrosted? Is it during or after the events of IM2?


End file.
